Dragon Kissed
by Zikare
Summary: Draco has retreated to a cave in the middle of a dragon reserve, in hopes of receiving the kiss of the dragon. He succeeds, but a terrorist organization puts his life in danger & Harry Potter comes to his rescue. Draco doesn't want to go & is clearly hiding something. Matters are complicated when he's kissed a second time. Can Harry discover what is really going on w/ Draco? Mpreg
1. Chapter 1

Full Summary: Draco Malfoy, after losing most of his family, has retreated to a cave in the middle of a dragon reserve, in the hopes of receiving the kiss of the dragon spirits. He succeeds, but when a terrorist organization takes over the reserve putting his life in danger, Harry Potter comes to his rescue. Only Draco doesn't want to go and is clearly hiding something. Matters are complicated when Draco is kissed a second time. Can Harry discover what is really going on with Draco and the dragon spiritualism that everyone in the reserve seems to believe in? Warnings: Mpreg, Parthenogenesis, Religion, Slash, Dub-con.

Author's Note: I debated whether or not to include a warning for religion. Ultimately I decided in favor of it, since it is an element I, personally, would like to be warned about before reading a story. Therefore I would like to inform you that the religion in this story is one I made up. Also, unlike mass delusions in real life, the ones in this story turn out to be mostly true, which I fear sends the wrong message. When reading, please keep in mind that there are no morals in my stories, full stop.

* * *

Harry's POV:

Slogging through one of the more mountainous Hebrides islands, dodging rampaging dragons and dangerous dark wizards, I kept telling myself that I was doing this to rescue innocent civilians. It just so happened that one of these civilians in particular was the same Draco Malfoy I'd grown up with and almost killed during six year. Who he was didn't matter, so much as the fact that he was registered to be living in a cave in the middle of the war zone. He was one of the innocents caught up in the cross fire. Regardless of who was trapped, it was my job to find said cave and portkey the victim to safety, now that the anti-apparition ward was established.

Those caves weren't hooked up to the floo, because they were out in the middle of nowhere. The population density of this island was extremely low, but there was a sufficient supply of caves and there were nature yahoos to fill them. That Draco Malfoy had become one of those nature yahoos content to live off of the land in a cave underneath a dragon reserve came as a surprise to most. But that cave had belonged to the Malfoy family for almost a millennium and was likely filled with every manner of Malfoy convenience. I highly doubted there was a substantial difference in the manner of life experienced at the Malfoy Cave versus the Malfoy Manor.

Then there was the fact that that particular cave had one of the highest concentrations of natural dragon magic stored up in the ground, from thousands of years of dragons nesting on the site. Dragon magic was the mystical healing force with supernatural abilities that went beyond the realm of modern magic. The cave yahoos were always going on about it, when they came down from their caves that was. Some of them even claimed that the dragon spirits in those caves were capable of channeling the spirits of dead witches and wizards. Maybe that was what Draco Malfoy was after.

Druella and Cygnus Black, Draco's maternal grandparents, had contracted Spattergroit in their old age and died. Their daughter, Narcissa Malfoy had contracted the disease while taking care of her parents. Due to her vitality, it was thought that she'd make a full recovery. But after the war, many people had refused to do business with the Malfoys and that included apothecaries. Narcissa was forced to obtain the necessary medicine from a substandard source, who brewed it incorrectly, resulting in her death. Meanwhile, Lucius Malfoy was serving a life sentence in Azkaban for his role in the war. Abraxas Malfoy had died years ago from Dragon Pox. And that left the aging Iona Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's mother, as Draco Malfoy's only free living relative.

It was certainly within the realms of possibility that Draco Malfoy had gone out to his family's cave in the heart of the dragon reserve to commune with his dead family. Maybe he couldn't live without his mother and was seeking her advice, wisdom, or just her presence. Or maybe the Malfoys were of the religious persuasion that bought into the dragon mysticism and Draco was enhancing his spirituality up there in his cave.

It didn't matter to me so much why Draco Malfoy was in the cave, just that he was and that he was now stuck. Out in an island wilderness without a floo, apparition and brooms were the sole sources of transportation available. With the wizarding terrorists on the loose inside the preserve, brooms were no longer safe. And with the Ministry's anti-apparition ward, which was put in place to prevent the terrorists from escaping, everyone who lived inside the caves was stuck inside. I volunteered to get them out; all of them.

I started with the caves on the outskirts of the island, flying in with my broom and invisibility cloak, and finding the caves that were inhabited. It was hard work, especially with the dragons angry and on the rampage, which meant that a great deal of my time was spent avoiding them or running away from them. And I also had to be on the lookout for dark wizards, sometimes avoiding them, other times capturing them and taking them into Ministry custody, or just passing a report of their activity along to my fellow Aurors.

The civilians along the border were the easiest to get to. It took time to convince the cave yahoos to leave the island, but the Ministry had a shelter set up to house the evacuated civilians and I came with a portkey ready to go; sometimes even two or three, if there were multiple inhabited caves in a region. It helped that the things were preprogrammed to activate at a certain time, so that I didn't have to hang around the caves for endless periods of time while the occupants decided whether or not to go. Instead I told them when the portkey was leaving and left them the choice to come with me or not. Most of them chose to come. I'd have a day off, back in civilization on the mainland, and start the cycle again, moving to another sector on the map.

I had left Draco Malfoy until last. This was for mostly practical reasons, because his cave was one of the center-most caves and therefor one of the hardest to get to. The other reason I had I left unspoken; it was personal, because we had a history. It was a complicated history and I didn't know whether that would help me in this endeavor or not. On the one hand, he knows me and I saved his life multiple times, so maybe he will trust me. On the other, we never got on and there was a chance I might blow my cool. If I say the wrong thing, he might choose to stay and risk his life. But maybe the fact that I'd already successfully evacuated eighty-seven percent of this reserve would convince him that it was time to go, even if it was with me.

It was a particularly hard slog up the mountain this time, complicated by the fact that I didn't know exactly which cave was his. Many caves were distinctly delimitated on the map, while others just demarcated an area and the families who lived within. In the Malfoy case, they owned an entire valley and kept the exact location of their cave a well-kept secret. It wasn't much of a valley, just a shallow slash between the three highest peaks on the island, with the mountain rising steeply on three sides, meaning that there was only one path in or out, even on a broom.

I had to duck into each and every cave in that valley, see if there was a residence inside, before moving on to the next. Some of the caves contained wildlife, such as the one higher up the side of the mountain which contained a female dragon and her nest. I barely escaped that cave with my life and was covered in soot to prove it. This valley was one of the most densely populated areas in terms of dragons on the island, so after that mistake, I learned to steer clear of the dragons' caves. The dragons tended to occupy the higher caves, which let out onto the side of the mountain, while humans tended to occupy lower caves, which could be reached on foot. Thus I decided to start with the lower level and work my way up.

Then there were the humans; the very first ground level cave I tried at the entrance to the valley was a food supply bunker for the terrorists. Another cave had a pair of dragon poachers, who were there to steal dragon eggs and were on neither side of the war. Poachers were bad news for dragons, but they only hid from me, before going on their way. Then there was the terrorist, who was constantly on patrol, on the lookout for Aurors like me. He was a real threat, but with the right timing, my cloak, and my broom, I managed to avoid him.

Worst of all was the weather, which I swear was conspiring against me. It rained almost the entire time and when it wasn't rain, it was sleet or hale. At night it was hard to sleep, because of the roaring of thunder, the crackling of lightning striking the ground, and the bellowing of the dragons. During the day, it was dangerous to fly at times and always unpleasant. When I was forced to walk, the mud caught me in its damp wet hold and latched onto my boots, making each step an ordeal. And to make matters worse, I slipped and fell on the slick stone floor of the cave that proved to be right next to Draco's. It used to remind me of Quidditch back in the day, but over the course of this mission I have grown to hate fall in the north.

I knew that this cave was a wizarding residence the moment I stepped into the structure, although there was no door, window, or obvious entrance. The back of the cave was unusually flat, drawing to mind a wall, rather than a natural rock formation. The cave itself seemed far shallower than it should be and what was more, it was warm and dry. The area seemed to scream magic, over and above the background dragon magic, which happened to be particularly high in the immediate vicinity. A wizard lived here and given that I was in Malfoy Valley, that wizard must be Draco Malfoy.

By the time I arrived at the entrance of Draco Malfoy's cave, I wanted nothing more than to take a hot bath, enjoy a warm, filling meal, and sleep in a soft warm bed. Was that so much to ask after being out in the elements for eight long days in order to get here? Most of the cave yahoos offered me their various amenities. Draco didn't. He let me wait on his porch for an hour, without so much as acknowledging my presence. When he finally did appear, it was a disembodied hologram projection of his head.

"What are you doing here Potter?" Draco asked.

"Rescuing you Malfoy," I replied.

"I don't require rescuing. You may go."

I might have taken him up on that, if he hadn't been the sole resident in this valley. It was simply too far to reach the next inhabited cave before my portkey was set to activate, so there was no point in leaving.

"Are you not aware of the danger which has surrounded you? The Hrypa terrorist organization has claimed this island as their headquarters. They've murdered the rangers of the dragon reserve and have set the most dangerous dragons free." The females, youngsters, and less troublesome males were always free to roam the island. The more dangerously aggressive full grown males, some of which had even broken free and rampaged neighboring muggle islands, were traditionally kept locked up so that they couldn't cause any additional trouble. Those were the dragons the terrorists had set free in order to keep the Aurors out. The other more docile dragons had been riled up, stirring up even more danger. "This entire island has become a war zone and evacuation has been ordered. I have a portkey to transport you to safety and there is a shelter already in operation on the mainland."

"I am not interested. Kindly see yourself out," Malfoy's voice rang out, as the image of his face began to flicker and disappear.

"Malfoy! Wait! This is serious! You have to leave," I called after him, hoping it was not too late and that he could still hear me.

I stayed there in that cave and waited. What choice did I have? My portkey wasn't set to activate for another three days and the entrance provided me shelter from the elements. It was dryer and warmer than the other caves, due to several rather convenient charms. I had my knapsack on my back and from it I pulled my tent and my dinner. I'd been camping on and off for months and I'd camp three days more if I had to. I had enough food to last me for another month and even the filth from my earlier fall could be washed away with the right spells.

A day passed before Draco Malfoy graced me with his pseudo presence once more. The image of his head crackled to life in my tent, right in front of my face and asked, "What are you still doing here Potter?"

"I'm trying to rescue you, Malfoy."

"I'm not in need of rescuing. I came here of my own free will. I have enough provisions to last me for years."

"I could help you get your stuff together. I've already evacuated most everyone else from the island. It's dangerous to stay; the Minister is considering drastic measures that would wipe out the dragon reserve."

"My cave offers me sufficient protection from these pestilent wizards that have been trespassing on my land. My house is sufficiently fortified to protect me even from a blast that would wipe out the surface layer of the mountain. If the Ministry sees fit to blow up my yard over a small band of outlaws making trouble, then I'll sue. The Malfoy caves have been in my family for nine hundred thirty-seven years. I will leave when I am good and ready and not before then. When are _you_ leaving?"

"Not for another two days; portkey you see. It's the safest way out of these mountains. Why don't you let me inside and I can update you on the situation topside?"

"No. You don't have my permission to camp out on my porch, so if you'd kindly relocate, I would appreciate it. I own all the land in this valley, but you'll find a nice dry cave two miles to the north."

"It's customary for Ministry personnel to be invited inside."

"Do you have a warrant Potter?"

"No, but," I started to say, but was cut off.

"But no. I don't have to let you in and I won't. Please leave."

"I won't leave. You don't have to let me in, but I have every right to stay here on your porch. It falls under the reasonable protection from an imminent threat ordinance. I'm keeping an eye on the area and making sure of your safety, all from your porch."

Draco scowled, flickered, and proclaimed, "I don't want you here Potter." Then he was gone.

I tried yelling and pounding on the rear wall of the cave, hoping to draw his attention. I wasn't done speaking to him, even if he was. But it was to no avail, because Draco's image didn't return until the next day.

"Why have you been making such a racket up here Potter? You're bothering the house elves."

"Sorry, but I really need to talk to you. My portkey is leaving tomorrow and you need to go with me. This is your only chance to get out of here. I know you don't want me to come in, but could you come out and talk to me?" I asked.

"No. There is nothing left to talk about. The heroic thing to do in this case is to leave me alone."

"The heroic thing is to drag you to safety."

"That would constitute kidnapping and you'd lose your job."

"Okay, so I won't kidnap you, I was only kidding. But if you'd so kindly come out here and have a simple chat with me, then I'll leave tomorrow without you."

"This is sufficient for me. What do you want to say that you haven't already said, Potter?"

"Why won't you come out? Are you hiding something Malfoy?"

"No, but as you so studiously pointed out, it's not safe up there. Plus it's a long walk; I'm hundreds of feet underground."

"Well then I'll just have to tell you like this. You need to know what's going on above you."

"Go ahead Potter, I'm listening."

And so I told Draco all about what the Hrypa terrorists had done; the bombings, against both muggle and magical targets, the deaths, of witches, wizards, mermaids, and muggles, releasing the dragons, and the propaganda. The Hrypa organization was founded by a bunch of victims of the war with Voldemort; witches and wizards who'd lost their parents, spouses, children, brothers, and or sisters to Death Eaters in the name of blood purity. Their side had won the war, but never gotten what they deemed proper reparations. They were demanding them now.

Then there was the egregiously violent and gory takeover of the dragon reserve three months ago, resulting in the almost complete decimation of the pureblooded MacFusty clan. The MacFustys had taken care of this preserve for centuries, but now the few remaining survivors had been evacuated to safety. That atrocity was topped only by the one committed against the merpeople who once lived in the system of rivers and lakes on the island. The merpeople were gone now, the bodies left behind the only record of the horror. Of course with merpeople, untold numbers of corpses were surely eaten by the local dragons or lost to the sea, so it was impossible to know precisely how many were slaughtered. That was what the Hrypa did when innocent magical beings stand up against terror; they wiped them out.

Draco was clearly horrified by what he was hearing. The fact that the terrorist organization on his property was advocating genocide against purebloods was a concern. He promised to help however he could from the safety of his cave, which wasn't much. Although, he did have monitoring charms all over the valley and provided me with valuable information regarding whereabouts of insurgents and locations of cashes of food and weapons. He even knew which dragons had been coerced to obey the terrorists and which had not. The location of Merpeople Communication Crystals and directions on how to activate said crystals was priceless and promised to give us new insight into exactly what had happened. My superiors would be very pleased with this intelligence report.

When the facts ran out, Draco said that he had to go. I begged him to leave with me tomorrow, but again he refused. It seemed I would be going home alone this time.

* * *

Author's Note: This story is going to have more adventure and action than my typical story, although I won't be focusing on the war, because that's just backstory.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry's POV:

One last plea on the morning of my last day fell on deaf ears, as Draco Malfoy turned me down again. I packed up my tent and my supplies preparing to leave, when there was a sudden blast outside in the valley. I unsheathed my wand, donned my invisibility cloak, and went to investigate.

At first I thought it was just an irate dragon; there were plenty of them in this valley, always angry and roaring about something. She was one of the largest Hebridean Black females I'd ever seen; at least thirty feet. I could see the anger in her violently purple eyes, as she roared and scorched the scarred Earth with flame. Rock fell from the side of the mountain when she whipped around her arrow-shaped spike at the end of her tail. Then she jerked her head in my direction and sniffed. The problem with invisibility cloaks is that they don't prevent dragons from smelling you. The dragon whirled about and I had just enough time before running for my life to see that she had a rider; one of the Hrypa gang, no doubt.

I ran back into the opening of the cave, not bothering with my cloak when it caught on a branch and got stuck. I left it where it fell and hid my body as much behind the rock as I could. As I curled my body inward, to protect my limbs, I began to think of protection spells. I had just enough time to cast a fire shield before the dragon and her rider were on me again. The blue and green of the flickering flames was pretty and was doubled by the reflection off of her shiny black scales. The dragon yahoos would be jealous if they could see me now; death by dragon flame was the noblest and most sacred way to die, according to their religion. Not many people got to experience death by dragon and fewer lived to tell the tale, as I planned on doing.

I held my shield against the intense blast of heat and fire for as long as I could. The air in between us was visible with smoke; it rose and circulated, as the intense heat was distributed by air currents. The heat and soot burned my eyes, while the light blinded me, causing me to blink and squint, even from behind my shield. At first my shield began to flicker, letting bursts of flame through before solidifying again. The flames scorched my clothes, burnt my hair, and singed my flesh. The burns were so painful that I didn't know how much longer I could keep going. If I survived this, the title saint would probably be added by the dragon yahoos to my list of unwanted honorifics.

And then there was a bright burst of flame coursing passed my shield. My skin registered the heat and the pain right before I passed out.

* * *

It was pitch black when I woke up. I was on my bed, inside my tent, and a house elf was hovering over me. I was in pain, but not excruciatingly so, which was surprising given the dragon's fire. I was contemplating the state of my body, trying to ascertain just how badly I was hurt, when it occurred to me that I was supposed to leave today. My portkey left at noon, when my watch now proclaimed it to be night. I'd missed my ticket home.

"Oh shite!" I exclaimed, jumping up from the bed and hoping the manky old watering can would still work and knowing that it wouldn't. It wasn't that type of portkey. It couldn't be, given that I was in a war zone and it was possible for the portkey to be intercepted by the enemy.

"Mister Harry Potter must lie down. Lifton is tending to Harry Potter's wounds, sir," the house elf said, pushing me back into the bed.

"But I've missed my portkey." I was still reaching out for my knapsack, which was on the table nearby, right where I always left it. That in itself was strange, because I'd packed up this tent, including the table this morning and stored them inside that same knapsack. The elf must've unpacked for me and set my tent back up.

"Master Draco Malfoy, sir, says that Harry Potter has already missed his portkey. Lifton is to be fixing Mister Harry Potter, so that he can go away, sir."

"How am I to go away without a portkey?"

"With a broom, sir."

"Can I talk to your master? What are you doing to me anyway?" I asked, noticing that the elf was once again wiping my tender skin with his damp cloth. I watched as he dipped the cloth into a bucket of metallic lavender colored liquid and repeated the process. Then he rubbed the wet cloth on my skin, creating a tingling sensation that soothed away the pain. Right before my eyes that spot of burnt skin went from angry red to tender pink.

"Master says it is a cure for dragon burns. Master saved your life, sir."

"How?" I asked. Risking his life to save mine didn't sound at all like the Draco Malfoy I knew.  
"He activated the anti-dragon ward. You were already burned and unconscious, but my very great and wonderful Master saved you from the worst of it. Master saved you from the human too, by sealing the entrance of the cave, sir."

"Where is your master now? How long did he stay with me?" I asked, not waiting for an answer, before asking another. "Did he give you this potion?"

"Master is inside the cave. Master never left the cave. And yes, Master gave Lifton the potion and said to keep applying it until the burns completely heal, sir."

"Wait, let me get this straight: your master, Draco Malfoy, saved me by sealing up the entrance to the cave and activating a ward, all without leaving the protection of his hide-e-hole?" I asked incredulously. This was much more like the Draco I knew. Just add in a Daily Prophet article with an exclusive interview with the blond hero and it would all fit.

"Yes sir,"

I decided to let the elf finish treating my burns. As soon as he was done, I retrieved the old watering can and verified that there was nothing I could do to turn it back into a functioning portkey. Then I sent my patronus off to my boss, to tell him what happened. I didn't have an owl with me, but I did have a protean charmed parchment that I normally used for communication. I could have used my parchment now, but I didn't feel like digging it out of my knapsack.

Lastly, I sent another patronus to my roommates, Ron and Hermione. The three of us were now living together in Grimmauld Place and they would be concerned that I'd not returned on time. It was the perfect arrangement, with my two best friends set up on the second floor and myself on the third. The first floor was common area. They kept discussing plans to buy their own place now that they were married and both made decent money. It was inevitable that they'd have kids and want a larger house. I hoped that didn't mean I would be left alone, but I'd deal with it when the time came.

I dreamt of Ron and Hermione that night. We were all still crammed into Grimmauld Place, only there were more of us. They had two kids, while I had three. When I woke, I could still hear the clear sound of the laughter of my young daughter ringing in my ears. She had my mother's features, down to the green eyes and red hair, as I'd seen them in a picture of her as a young girl. If only that dream could become my reality…sure it might be possible if I married a nice witch and settled down, but after the disaster that was my relationship with Ginny, I'd stuck to casual dates with wizards.

It was late morning before Draco bothered to contact me and interrupted my self-introspection. "I trust my elf has healed you sufficiently, Potter."

"Yes, thanks for saving me."

He didn't acknowledge my thanks, other than with a curt nod. "When will you be able to fly out of here?"

"I don't know. I don't even know what happened to my broom. And I have to know what's going on outside before I can set off." The entrance to the cave was sealed shut, as if a sheet of rock had always fitted so perfectly into the opening. That was a good thing, for now, because I had no doubt that the terrorists were still trying to get in.

"Your broom was burnt badly. I am having Lifton repair it. I was hoping you had another."

"No, sorry. The emergency plan was to hold up in a cave until the portkey activated. Or if I missed the portkey, to escape on my broom."

"That was rather narrow sighted of you Potter; you didn't even bring a boat. I suppose I will have to endure your presence on my doorstep until Lifton fixes your broom. Although I must warn you, there is a chance that broom in unsalvageable. You may have to hike out of here on foot and build a boat."

"What about you? Don't you have a broom or a boat I could barrow? How'd you plan on getting out of here?"

"No to the broom and the last person to barrow my boat never returned it. I apparated in and I plan on staying until I can apparate out again. It's your Ministry which has imposed the restriction and you were the one sticking your nose into my business, even after I said you weren't wanted, so don't go blaming me for this."

"I wasn't going to. But, um, since I'm staying, will you let me in now?" I asked hoping for the best, but knowing the answer wasn't going to be what I wanted it to be.

"No."

"Malfoy, I don't understand why you won't let me in. You saved my life yesterday, but you won't let me into your cave? I'm trapped out here until your elf fixes my broom; you might as well let me in to wait."

"The answer remains no. You must never enter my residence, even if you think my life depends on it. My life depends on isolation."

"Why? What's going on in there? Are you sick?"

Instead of answering, Draco replied, "It's none of your business. Just stay away or I will sue."

"Can we at least talk?"

"What do you think we're doing now?"

"I meant again, like this. It's going to be rather lonely if I'm stuck on your porch. How long have you been alone in there? You must be lonely by now."

"Fine, I will endeavor to speak with you once a day, if I remember. You have enough food to last you, I trust."

"I do; enough for another month."

"Let's hope Lifton repairs your broom by then. If not, you'll be going hungry, because I don't have extra rations."

"I'll start stretching it then." I hoped it didn't come to that. Then I'd remembered something he'd said before. "Wait, didn't you say you have enough provisions to last you for years?" I asked.

"I do, but only to last me for years."

"Well why don't you share, and I promise to replace any provisions I use as soon as I can?"

"I don't have that type of provisions; mine are renewable and limited. I have a small indoor garden, which my elves tend, along with chickens and one milk goat. I don't have enough for you."

It was rude of him to refuse to share, but then this was Malfoy I was dealing with and rudeness didn't come as a shock anymore. It was the years of thankless Auror work that did it and the myriad of far worse behaved civilians. There was one particular old pureblood woman who I always remembered at times like these. She'd spat on me and called me a bloody wanker when I returned her kneazles from where it'd gotten itself stuck down a well. In comparison to her, Malfoy was the epitome of grace.

"Alright, I'll go on raids and steal from the terrorists' stores if it comes to that," I said.

"Oh, and Potter?"

"Yes?"

"The entrance to the cave is securely sealed. It will remain sealed until the presence of dangerous dragons and humans are no longer detected in my valley. Please do not tamper with it."

"Alright. Could you let me know if and when you open it back up?" I will need to explore, in order to determine current enemy locations and plan my trip home. And if I was forced to stay past a month, I will need food.

"Yes. Good day Potter," Draco said, before once more flickering out.

I returned then to the book I was reading. It was a good thing this tent came with a well-stocked library, because I just might need it.

* * *

Author's Note: I just got back from a talk by Richard Dawkins; it was the first time in real life I'd heard someone say the phrase, "Bugger off." Among other things, he has a cool English accent :)

So obviously something had to happen to keep Harry there with Draco or this story would've came to an end today. Next chapter Harry will get his first clue as to what is going on.

Please Review!


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Dub-con occurs in the following chapter. This is the edited version, so if you are over the age of 18, you can find the elicit version under my profile on AO3; the link is on my profile.

* * *

Three weeks passed without a change with the terrorists, the dragons, my food situation, my broken broom, the location of my tent, or Draco Malfoy. My burns from the dragon were completely healed and the violent discoloration they caused had started to fade. I had a potion in my kit for reducing scars and it seemed to be working, not to mention the healing potion Lifton applied to my skin did wonders.

The terrorists still maintained a presence in the valley outside the stone walls. Draco did deem me worthy to share his surveillance spells, allowing me to tap into the footage that showed the Hebridean Black who tried to burn me to a crisp and a single terrorist in a cave in this valley. I watched it almost constantly, trying to learn their movements, schedules, and patterns. There was also low resolution coverage of a wider area that allowed me some amount of knowledge regarding the terrorist activity outside of Malfoy Valley. Of key interest, was a food store located in a cave on the outskirts of the valley and a weapons store, which may contain brooms, that was located only a few miles to the north. I thought constantly of the raids I was planning on those two stores. The food would have to come first, but I needed that broom too and it would be good to take a cache of weapons out of the hands of the enemy.

As for the food shortage, after my childhood with the Dursleys, it was second nature for me to go into food rationing mode. With ceasing all exercise and limiting my physical movements to lying on my bed reading, watching surveillance footage, and taking notes, I was confident that I could make my food stretch for two months. I still hoped it didn't come to that, but I was preparing for that eventuality just the same. Sooner or later I would go on my first raid and obtain additional food, but until then, what I had would stretch.

Lifton threw his elf magic at my broom and repaired it to the point where it looked like a broom. It even flew a little, with an uncomfortably tilted, jerking, shaking motion and producing worrisome smoke from the tail. But even with all that, I would still have tried to fly it if the thing would get more than a foot up off the ground. I had a book on broom repair I was reading now, in the hopes that I might have better luck. But from what I'd read so far, I didn't have much hope of fixing my broom. To leave, it would either have to be an act from the Ministry, such as canceling the anti-apparition wards or sending in another Auror with a Portkey, or I would have to steal a broom.

Draco kept to his word and contacted me each day, although not in person. He remained safe below ground in his cave doing Merlin knows what. I thought he would've been lonely and eager for the conversation, but most days he only had twenty minutes to spare for me. For the most part, we talked about the terrorists and what they were up to, although I did slip in the odd personal question. I wanted to know what he was doing with all of his time, why he was up here in the first place, and why he wouldn't leave.

And I still wanted to know, because he was still refusing to answer all personal questions, but maybe that would change tonight. At least that was what I thought when I was lying in bed, about to go to sleep for the night and heard the noise. I left my tent to see the interior cave door, the one which led deeper into the cave and previously had only opened to allow the passage of Lifton the elf, rumbling and shaking. Lifton never came at night, always during the day; this was someone different. A tall figure with a head of white blond hair emerged, proving that my gut instinct was right. If he was coming to me, then maybe he was ready to let me inside and show me what he's been working on.

Moments later, Draco's long strides brought him to within my range of smell. It was a strong, floral aroma that made my thought processes dim and shift. My forebrain shut itself off and gave control over to my lower brain with its basal urges and desires. Suddenly I was shrouded in a haze of lust and incredibly horny.

"You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen," I said breathily, looking into Draco's deep grey eyes. They were bordered by the longest, thickest lashes I'd ever seen, only they were so pale as to be practically transparent. The blush on his cheeks matched his full red lips, which were opened slightly and moving with each breath.

Draco's head bent down in acknowledgement, but his eyes remained fixed on mine, as he looked at me through those lashes of his. He looked shy, or coy, or like a blushing virgin. If I'd been thinking straight, I would've found this behavior about as odd as a dancing Crumple-Horned Snorkack in a lake of molten lava. But I wasn't thinking straight, not in the least.

"I've ridden a dragon before," I bragged. I don't know why I said it. Later, I'd recall those words and cringe.  
Draco didn't cringe. He smiled, took my hand, and led me through the front door and the tunnel beyond.

I imagined that the whole of the interior of the Malfoy Cave would be finished, with not a stitch of stone left uncovered by an ancient tapestry. What I found was a long, curvy, steeply downward slopping, narrow tunnel. There were points that were so low that we had to crawl, but although the journey was long and awkward, it barely registered in my mind. A magical glowing ball of light proceeded Draco, lighting our way and the journey seemed to past faster than it really did.

Looks, facial expressions, and the tug on my hand by his were all that was needed, as not another word was spoken between us. My subconscious was thinking about fourth year, when the Death Eater disguised as Mad-Eye Moody imperiused me for the first time. This feeling was very similar to how I'd felt then, only what Draco was leading me to do wasn't stupid; it was so hot I might've consented if I'd been able to. But my conscious mind was not there to receive the warning or consent and I was far too gone down an endless tunnel of lust and need to pull back.

The fact that I was so incredibly turned on by a man was not new to me. After my disaster of a relationship with Ginny, I'd made the switch. I still found strong, harsh women attractive, but there was a psychological barrier in my brain that stopped me from going down that road, chasing after yet another Ginny or Cho. Now I chased cock. Like my women, I liked my men strong and domineering, which meant I normally ended up dating tops and having to bottom. I preferred to top myself, which was why none of my gay relationships had lasted very long.

We were in Draco's bedroom, or at least a bedroom. The only details I noticed were him, not the room or the bed I was pushing him down onto. We were snogging passionately, breaking only for quick gasps of breath. His hands were on my buttons and zippers, working me free of my clothing. His clothing amounted to a handsome dark green robe, which came apart with a tug at the tie on his waist. My mouth found his bare skin, licking and kissing. His mouth found my neck, sucking.

I had a knee in between his legs, grinding our groins together and producing delicious friction. I wanted to keep frotting against him to completion and I would've, if he hadn't stopped me with his hand. He moved one leg, spreading his legs wide, so that they surrounded mine. A jar of lubricant soared into his hands and he moved to prepare himself, but I stopped him, taking the lube from him. Finally the controlling bottom I've been looking for.

Our need was too great to take our time; the preparation was rushed and the sex that followed was desperate. He was flushed down to his chest, with red blotches marring his pale scarred skin. It was just one scar, with many branches that matched the pattern I'd created with such regret in sixth year. But even though his scar took up much more area than all of mine combined, his skin was still lovelier and less flawed, because his had healed well. The scars were nothing more than a shiny white crisscrossing pattern, not the ugly burn marks that covered me. My skin was blotchy, because the burn from Slytherin's locket was now joined by a myriad of dragon burns.

He flipped us over, so that he was riding me, sending me into a state of pure euphoria. His technique felt absolutely brilliant, rocking back and forth. His face was expressive, showing pleasure and desire, while his mouth hung open and he panted for breath, his body straining to rock faster and harder. My face mirrored his, as my heart raced. We needed this, we had to have it, and it had to be now, right this very second. It was cathartic, like scratching an itch that had been building for years. It was probably the most passionate sex I'd ever had.

The ending was blindingly brilliant. He arched his back and screamed, without being touched, and pushed me over the precipice with him. I couldn't catch my breath as my lungs burned for oxygen and my muscles ached from exertion.

*Censored

When it ended, I was so exhausted that I was pulled into a deep sleep before my breath evened out.

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Author's note: I'd like to thank vickythecharmedfan for being the only one to review the last chapter! Feedback is extremely important in the writing process, especially this early on when the story is just starting to take form. I love your reviews girl!

So what did you all think of the lemon? Up next will be their reaction to waking up together and Harry will finally find out Draco's secret. Harry will be left alone to wander Malfoy Cave; what do you think he should find hiding behind all that rock? Besides the secret that is. If Draco lives there, it must be fabulous and not just an ordinary cave.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I would like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Your reviews are very much appreciated and help me improve the story.

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I was sleeping like a rock when he screamed and yelled. I felt the bed jostle underneath me, but I was in too deep to react, other than to slowly return to consciousness. I felt a breeze of cold air hit my skin, as the blanket was pulled away. The punch to my jaw was a shocking blow that roused me completely, my hand reflexively reaching up to cup my injured jaw. My eyes shot open and I grabbed my glasses. I then took in the sight of Draco Malfoy standing in front of me, looking thoroughly debauched and covering himself with the blanket. He looked pissed, then ill, and finally settled for panicked. He ran from the room, down the hall, through a side corridor, and continued on until I completely lost track of him, despite my best efforts to run after him.

Now that I was awake, the horror of what had happened begun to sink in. I'd had sex with Draco fucking Malfoy. I went back to the room we'd slept in, in search of my far-flung clothing, fearing that he'd be back any moment and I'd still be naked. He'd hit me and maybe he'd come back to do it again. It occurred to me that he must've done something to me to get me into his bed and that I ought to be the one hitting him, but that was only a passing fancy and I didn't really want to hurt him. What I remembered of the sex was bloody fantastic and I wasn't the sort to look gift sex in the mouth; not when it'd been so long since I'd had a good shag.

As I put on my clothes, I began to wonder what he'd done to me. It wasn't exactly the same as the imperius curse, but it was close. It was more sexual. Entirely sexual might be a better way to put it.

In the synthetic light of day, the room didn't strike me as Draco's bedroom. It had the impersonal feel of a hotel room, with none of Draco's personal things on display. Once suitably dressed, I ventured out of the room to explore. The hallway outside the room was taller and wider than the tunnel that we'd traveled down to get here. Those antique tapestries I'd pictured were here, on the walls of the hallway, only they were more spectacular than I'd imagined. They were vivid scenes of the valley outside, the side of the mountain, and the nesting Hebridean Black dragons.

I opened doors as I went, peering into an endless number of hotel rooms, generic sitting rooms, and the odd, empty study or two. The walkway intersected with another two walkways of similar size and a third walkway that was quite a bit larger. I went down one way and found that the first door on the left led to a large private library, while the first door on the right led to an equally large drawing room. The other two doors led to a loo and a closet. After that, the antechamber of a hallway narrowed down into the narrow stone passage from which I'd come the night before.

Not wanting to see myself out, I turned around and headed back the other way. This time I would choose one of the other two ways. I studied my choices, looking down at the rug and then at the walls for clues. My work as an Auror had taught me to cue into the little details, like that the middle felt abuzz with elf magic, while the alternative only resonated of the dragon magic that was all around. The carpet looked more worn in the middle direction. And finally the middle way contained something the other ways didn't: family portraits of blond haired, pale, pointy faced witches and wizards. I chose the middle.

The middle walkway sported many large, opulent rooms, including a dining room. Judging by the magical residue, an elf had recently cleaned up a mess on the rug in that dining room, indicating that it was where Draco ate. There was another door off of the dining room and judging by the clanging of pots and pans, the sizzling of breakfast, and the smell of eggs, it led to the kitchen. There would be house elves that way, I knew, but I didn't want to confront one right now. If I did, they might stop me from wandering around the house or worse, tell Draco what I was doing. I'd been trying to get inside this cave dwelling for over three weeks and now that I had this opportunity, I was not going to cut it short.

I went out into the hallway, where I found another bathroom, a tearoom, and several storerooms. The walkway descended down and around, curving back the way I'd come, only a level lower. Here I found another tearoom, a study which appeared to be heavily used, a sitting room bursting with Draco's magical signature, and a large indoor garden of all things. The plants looked rather pathetic, as did the goat that was sleeping amidst them. Behind the garden was a door that judging by the clucking sounds, led to a chicken coop.

Going back the way I came, I found the main hallway again and returned to my exploration. This time I found another loo, several closets, and a fancy drawing room that hadn't been used in years, which was full of knickknacks, trophies, diplomas, and awards. Then I came to another meeting of the hallways and had to choose.

I continued forward and found that the pathway narrowed and began to descend steeply. The air grew colder and smelled moist. I could hear the sound of water. I had a feeling that this wasn't the right direction to go to find Draco, but was curious as to what could possibly be down here. I followed the path around a sharp turn, down steps cut into the rock, and found myself in the gaping cavern of an underground river. There were coves gorged out of the rock, creating a large calm area, like a pond without the vegetation, and a smaller bathing pool.

The underground river was spectacular to behold, but Draco wasn't here, so eventually I turned around. Back at the intersection, I chose the hallway on the left this time, only to find a suite of uninhabited rooms. These rooms had been lived in once and personal effects remained in place, but the whole wing had the air of disuse to it. I turned around and set off to explore the only remaining option.

The first room was a children's playroom. It was filled with the type of little kid toys that Teddy had loved back when he was three. The most shocking part was that these toys were all fairly new and obviously recently played with. There was a feel of magics that hadn't been in the other rooms, or if they had, they'd been too subtle to stand out. Standing in that room, I started to imagine that I could hear the high pitched squeal of young children and the nattering of an elf.

It was a loud bang that jostled me out my confusion over the playroom. It came from behind one of two doors that connected with said room. I opened that door and found a nursery, complete with two blond Malfoy toddlers and a female elf. The elf was putting out flames from the carpet in that moment and then proceeded to vanish the fallen candle and pick back up the knocked over candelabra, before placing a new candle in it and lighting it.

The toddlers were absolutely identical and looked like younger versions of Draco. Judging by the styled mops of wispy blond hair on their heads and their effects that were strewn around the room, I'd say they were boys. They were adorable and dressed in matching olive green robes, one with a red cauldron on the front, and the other with blue. They had been running around the room with their red and blue, respectively, socks flailing about in their hands, but now they were standing stalk still, staring at me with their thumbs and forefingers in their mouths.

The one in blue squealed, pointing a wet finger at me.

The red one turned to the blue one, nodded, and pointed his own wet finger at me in turn.

"Hi," I said, not having anything else _to_ say to a discovery like this. Obviously these two boys were what Draco kept secret and they were also what was keeping him busy.

The red boy startled and his jaw dropped, before he ran behind his brother.

The blue boy said, "Hi," back, his index finger sneaking into the crook of his mouth.

"What's your name?" I asked in the voice I used for little kids. After Teddy, there was a never ending stream of Weasley children around, so I had some practice.

His answer was garbled by the fact that his fingers were in his mouth. It sounded like there was a B in there, but I couldn't be certain. I looked up as the girl elf, who had just now finished cleaning up the spilt wax and repairing the singed carpet, stepped forward and bowed. Unlike Lifton, she bore a resemblance to Dobby.

"They is Masters Broderick and Roadrick, sir." She pronounced both two syllable names with the long o more common in the wizarding world, not the short o used amongst muggles. "Master Draco be leaving Sotty with orders to get the little masters up to breakfast in the morning, sir. Master Draco is not telling Sotty to expect the Great Harry Sodding Potter for breakfast. Master _is_ giving Sotty direct orders to never lick the Great Harry Sodding Potter's shoes, sir," the elf said, making Sodding sound like Harry's middle name.

"Don't worry…Sotty, is it?" I asked and she nodded. "I don't want you to lick my shoes."

"Then _why_ is you here, sir?" She asked it like getting my shoes licked by a Malfoy house elf was the only logical conclusion one could make as to my motivations behind being in this house.

"I came to visit Draco. We're old friends," I fibbed.

"Master Draco is in his bath. Sotty is to be having the little masters ready for breakfast, sir."

That sounded like as much of a dismissal as an elf was capable of, so I decided to leave her to her work. "And where is that?"

"Right through that door, of course, sir," she replied pointing to one of the five doors off of the nursery.

I nodded to the elf and walked to the indicated door, taking one last look back at the twins. They looked so much alike and so much like Draco at the same time. Draco had almost no living family, so there was no possible explanation for their existence other than that they were Draco's children. This thought occurred to me, but was immediately dismissed as being impossible. If Draco Malfoy got married, it would be in the papers. If he had twin boys, inside or outside of wedlock, it would be in the papers. If his children were living here with him, it would be on my official report of the residents in this area. It just wasn't possible.

The only logical conclusion was that Draco had distant relatives who just happened to be visiting when the terrorists took over. I would find the parents in one of the yet unsearched rooms. Whatever the case, I'd have to ask him about it.

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Author's Note: The twins are what Draco's been hiding and the result of the first time he was kissed by the dragon spirits. Up next Harry and Draco will have a little chat about last night…

Please Review!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I would like to thank dragonlilly1993, RapunzelInTheSnow, billjenny6972, vickythecharmedfan, and geetac for reviewing the last chapter! Your reviews kept me motivated to finish this chapter!

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The only logical conclusion was that Draco had distant relatives who just happened to be visiting when the terrorists took over. I would find the parents in one of the yet unsearched rooms. Whatever the case, I'd have to ask him about it. I shook my head to clear it and proceeded through the door into what most differently was his personal bedroom. The room was immaculately clean, but his things were everywhere. A set of his freshly laundered clothes was sitting on the chest of drawers, next to several bottles of cologne, and a box filled with expensive masculine jewelry, such as watches and cufflinks. There was a stack of books on the bedside table, next to a photo of Draco and his parents and another of Draco and a pair of twin baby boys who resembled the toddlers in the next room.

Draco wasn't in his room, but from there I could hear the sound of running water and see the light shining through the crack of yet another door. Obviously he was taking a shower, leaving me time to snoop around his room. Maybe I'd find out how the boys were related to him or a clue as to how he controlled me last night. Or maybe it was just my long-term obsession with all things Draco-related that had me snooping. Either way I started looking around more thoroughly.

The top book in the stack was on dragon magic, which made sense given our current location. The second was on the dragon mysticism religion, which supported the hypothesis that Draco was here for spiritual reasons. And the third book was on veela, which made me think that he possibly had used the veela allure to seduce me, but that couldn't be. He wasn't a veela and he wasn't even female. Furthermore, I was immune to the veela allure, wasn't I? I admit I was somewhat affected the first time I ever saw them, at the Quidditch world cup, but I wasn't as bad as the others. And I've always been completely unaffected by Fleur and her veela cousins. That explanation just didn't work.

Next I opened the drawers on the bedside table to find certain personal items Draco wouldn't want me seeing. They were the type of thing a bottom might keep around for when they got lonely. I hadn't really thought about the fact that he'd bottomed last night, but I thought about it now. He was so bossy and commanding that I didn't think he'd be a bottom, but then he was a bossy and commanding bottom, even though he hadn't said a word. It was like he was running the show and I was a puppet on a string; I was just lucky that it turned out to be such a good show.

I stayed there by the bedside table, staring off into space and thinking about last night, until I heard a noise come from the bathroom. The water was still running and the light was still on, but I was sure the sound was a sob. It was a sound of pain or frustration. I instinctively jumped up and pressed my ear to the door, to see if there was a serious issue, like maybe he'd hurt himself.

If only I had a pair of George's Extendable Ears, I'd be able to tell exactly what was going on behind that door. But even with my handicap, I was able to make out another sob and some garbled muttering. I thought, "Bloody Potter," "Stupid self-righteous arsehole," "Stupid tosser," and "Bloody wanker," were among the mix. It sounded like he was muttering about me. If that was the case, he wasn't very happy with me.

"Draco?" I called tentatively, having no other options occur to me. "Are you alright?"

There was a frustrated scream in response that made me think I was supposed to let myself out. I didn't know how to respond to that, other than to run in the other direction. I didn't want to do that, so I stayed.

There were more noises, starting with what I thought was another sob, followed by the bang of a fist hitting the wall. Then there was some muttering, as the sounds of running water decreased and then stopped altogether. That was followed by scuffling noises, before Draco actually said something that I could hear. "What the _fuck_ are you still doing here Potter?" It sounded like he was just on the other side of the door.

"You didn't tell me to leave," I offered truthfully, but leaving out a lot.

There was a grunt of frustration, followed by a thump, and then the words, "I didn't invite you in either. In fact, I clearly recall telling you never to come in. I told you it was a matter of life and death for me and yet you _still_ chose to violate me."

"Whoa, hold on second. You _did_ invite me in. You came and got me from my tent. You did some sort of weird voodoo on my head, so that I wasn't even thinking about what I was doing. It was like you imperiused me or something. Not that I'm complaining; I'd just prefer it if we could do that while leaving my free-will on next time," I replied. I wasn't sure I wanted there to be a next time, but it had been such a great experience that part of me wanted to repeat it, even if it was with Draco Malfoy.

"First of all, there will _not_ be a next time, Potter, not _ever_. Second, I didn't do it. I have no control over it. That's why I was trying to keep everyone away; so it wouldn't happen again." I heard a harsh intake of breath, as if this had cost him a great deal to admit.

"So this has happened before?"

"Once."

"And what causes it?" I waited for a response, but when there was none, I asked, "Draco?"

There was another sound, but I couldn't tell if it was another sob, a groan, or a scream.

I was growing increasingly concerned by how upset he clearly seemed to be. If what he was saying was the truth, he hadn't consented to the sex either. And while it didn't really bother me, it seemed to bother him quite a bit. Maybe he wasn't gay or maybe he just had a problem with me specifically. Given what I saw in his bedside table, I was leaning towards the latter. "Draco? Could you come out and talk to me? We could have some tea," I offered.

"Are you fucking shitting me, Potter? You force me to have sex with you and then you want me to sit down for a nice cup of _bloody tea_?"

"Hey, I was forced too."

There was a sound of indignation. "I _warned_ you! But you didn't listen, because you _never_ listen. You're Bloody Wanker Potter and you can do whatever you want, including coming into my _sanctuary_, the only place where I'm safe from tossers like you, uninvited."

"You warned me, but you didn't tell me to watch out for your psycho mind control, Malfoy."

"I _thought_ that you were immune to psycho mind control. It was in all of the papers that even the Dark Lord couldn't imperiuse you. And there was that Ministry gala with the veelas and you didn't even bat an eyelid. I thought I didn't have to worry about that with you. I thought that if something like that happened, you'd think and remember my warning. I thought you'd get the hint and stay out of my bloody house."

That Ministry gala with the Bulgarian veelas was years ago. It was a few years after the war, after the trials and Draco's acquittal, but long before he'd gone into isolation in this cave. It was one of the last times I'd seen him until now. Like all galas, I'd found it interminably boring and had only attended due to social pressures.

"I _am_ immune! That's what has me tripping out so much, because I'm immune to most mind control, but not this. Whatever this is, I couldn't fight."

"Well don't you go blaming me! I warned you." He said the last three words like a plea, with a little whimper on the end; what for I didn't know.

"Right, so it wasn't either of our faults. Now why don't you come out and we can talk face to face. We can figure out what we're going to do about this," I offered.

"I'm not dressed. My clothes are in my room; I'm not used to having intruders in the house."

"Do you want me to get them for you?"

"No, I want you to go away."

"Alright, how about I meet you in the dining room for breakfast?"

"No!" The word was shouted out too quickly, revealing that he was still trying to cover something up.

I wasn't sure why he'd be covering up something in the dining room. That elf had said she was taking those boys there to eat. If young children were allowed in, it couldn't be that bad, could it? Or maybe the children were what he was trying to hide. "Is this about those two little boys?" I asked.

"I'm going to kill you Potter. If you ever tell a single being, human, magical, or otherwise, I will hunt you down and rip you apart piece by piece."

"Why? Who are they to you? Why are they here?"

"They're my sons; they were born here."

"How is that even possible?" How was it possible that no one knew and that the papers had never found out?

There was the sound of a groan, followed by yet another thump. "Just go wait in my sitting room and I'll meet you there once I'm dressed," he said.

I didn't know which room he meant, because there had been a number of sitting rooms. All I had was a vague idea that it was likely one of the rooms off of the main hallway on this level. But I didn't have to go searching for it, because one of Draco's elves, Upwood, led the way. Upwood was a very old elf who looked like a wrinkled version of Dobby.

I told upwood as much, to which he replied, "Dobby was my son, sir. Broke my Bonnie's heart, he did. Dobby was the worst son an elf could have." Then he wandered off muttering about insubordinate children, black sheep, and disgraceful elves.

I looked around the room, taking in the baby photos of Draco's sons that were displayed on the walls and a pair of large portraits of Lucius and Naricssa Malfoy.

"So the dragon spirit has seen fit to taint our lines with Potter scum," Lucius' portrait announced.

"Now Lucius, dear, it's already happened. There is nothing we can do about it. Surely you don't want to alienate Mister Potter," Narcissa's portrait rebuked.

"What are you talking about? What dragon spirit?" I asked.

"The dragon spirit is all around us. You are blind if you cannot see it," Lucius replied hotly, sounding much more like a hippy than the real Lucius did. I wondered how the real Lucius would respond to meeting this odd portrait; probably burn it.

"Right," I replied.

I found a comfortable seat and waited, with Lucius glaring and Narcissa smirking at me. Draco left me waiting longer than I thought he'd need to get dressed, but maybe he had other things to do first, like see his children. I was bored and impatient at first, considering whether or not to leave the room and go wandering around again. But then I struck up a conversation with Narcissa's portrait and lost track of time. Narcissa told me all about the dragon mysticism religion and the story of when the Malfoys had converted.

There once was a Malfoy couple unable to conceive children. The Malfoys were still relatively new to England, having come over from France less than a century before and had thought that the dragon mysticism was just a bunch of codswallop. But dragon mystics preached of the healing powers of dragon magic, including the power to heal fertility problems, and being desperate, they gave it a try. Malfoys never did anything halfway, so they bought the most prime section of land within the nesting grounds of the Hebrides Islands; the reserve was later built around them. And within a year, they had a brand new Malfoy heir. They had believed ever since.

"And now the dragon spirits have provided my Draco with two heirs, when there was no prospect of children on his horizon," Narcissa concluded, just as Draco walked in.

"Yes, my permanent little reminders from the first time this happened to me do make nice heirs. They're the only good part about all this dragon dung," Draco revealed. He looked much more composed than he'd sounded earlier. He was dressed sharply and seemed well put together, although he stood well away from me. When I stepped forward, he stepped back, maintaining that distance. I couldn't say that I blamed him, after last night. I didn't think it would happen again, but part of me wondered if it would if only he'd step a little closer.

If a set of twins was what he got from his last such encounter of this nature, then the fact that he'd been so upset about last night suddenly made more sense. The first time it hadn't ended with the sex and this time he was probably imagining that he would now be stuck with my kid.

I rushed to reassure him, "You don't have to worry about that with…" I gestured, indicating the pair of us with the movement of a finger. "Er, last night. We're guys, so there's no way that sort of thing could happen."

I wanted him to agree with me, to nod his head, or say something. He didn't and I kept rambling. "Oh, and it won't happen again. I'll, um, I'll know what to expect and I'll fight it. I'll be able to throw it off, for sure. Er, unless you want it to…happen again, I mean. It wasn't…" The scalding look he gave me made me stop that train and revert to my earlier rambling. "No, it won't happen again."

"That's right, it won't, because you're leaving right now and never coming into my house again," he said.

"Right now, right now?" I asked.

"Yes."

"But I could stay and um, help. You don't need to hide your boys from me, I already know about them. I could, er, help with the garden. It looked a bit dead and I have a green thumb; I could get it going again, producing more food." It was a large garden and if those plants were properly taken care of, they could be producing enough food to support us all.

"No, Potter. Winter's coming and the crops have mostly been harvested. How do you suppose to grow more food in the dead of winter?"

"Well it's indoors, so it doesn't matter what season it is, does it? You have artificial lighting."

"No, I have a magical transference of lighting. That room is lit by the sun. The days are just as short as they are outside and the light is dimmed by the ubiquitous cloud cover that predominates this region during this part of the year. Furthermore, making the attempt will waste nutrients and minerals in the soil, making the spring harvest suffer. I wasn't lying when I said I don't have enough food for you."

"But that's a big garden, it surely supports more than one person."

"Yes it does, and if you haven't noticed, there are three wizards living here, along with elves, chickens, and a goat."

"There must be a way…"

"There is no way, not during the winter. Winters are harsh up here Potter and thanks to the Ministry, my elves were prevented from leaving this cave since summer. Normally I send them out to buy a few sacks of grains during the fall, so we are in fact surviving off of less food than normal."

"Look, I'm sorry about that. I have food for now and I'll go on raids and get more before I run out."

"How can you, with that dragon residing in the cave above this one?"

"Let me worry about that. I do dangerous shit like this all the time these days." Draco's face contorted in distress. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? How can you ask me that?" he asked incredulously. There was a pause as he waited for a response, but when all I did was sputter, he continued. "We had _sex_ last night, Potter! I had _Savior dick_ up my _arse_ for Salazar's sake! If I could get to St. Mungo's, I'd have them erase the memory from my mind to purge my poor brain of the defilement that you caused."

I wasn't sure how that was linked to what I'd said. Maybe I'd reminded him of how heroic I was and that was offensive to him or something.

"Sorry," I offered.

"Just go. Why are you still here? I'd have my elves apparate you away from me if that anti-apparition ward of yours didn't apply to elves too. Do you have any idea how _awful_ it is to have to wait for elves to _walk_ around this cave?"

It was now standard procedure to deploy elf anti-apparition wards whenever their human equivalents were used. That was a direct result of my escape from Malfoy Manor during the war. Every detail of the war had since been analyzed, evaluated, processed, debated, and turned into laws and Ministry policy. I decided not to mention any of that, in case he didn't already know. "Um, if I go, can I come back? It's lonely up in my tent and you have plenty of room."

"No, but I'll keep visiting you."

"In person?"

"No, it's too far. I don't even know how I made the trek twice last night."

"Then let me make it. I promise not to wander. I'll stay on the upper lever. We can have tea in one of those tea rooms up there."

"I'll think about it."

"I can help you with whatever you're working on or with the children," I added, but that didn't seem to be the right thing to say.

"Stay away from my children, Potter! Don't you _dare_ go near them!" Draco sounded like an angry mother bear.

"Ah, okay. You're sons are off limits, I can respect that."

"See that you don't forget it."

"I won't. Does that mean I can come over again? I promise not to go near your kids."

"Only if you leave now."

It was a steep bargain, but I took it, because I didn't think he'd offer a better one. I agreed and he called Lifton, who escorted me back up to my tent. Now that I was fully conscious, I realized just how bloody long the tunnels were. It was a steep uphill climb that curved back and forth as we ascended. The worst part was the rather long stretch with a ceiling that was so low, even Lifton had to bend over and I flat out had to crawl. But despite the ordeal, I still wanted to do it again.

* * *

Author's Note: Draco did have some idea that something like this could happen again, having already experienced it once, but is clearly more upset. This is because he is more susceptible to mind control and thus even more out of it than Harry.

Up next Harry will make his raid on the terrorists' food cache.

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	6. Chapter 6

It took me another week to decipher the pattern of movement of the terrorist and his dragon. A week after that, I had my plan for my first raid all worked out. The cache cave was just outside of this valley. On foot with the snow on the ground, it would take me an hour to slog there and another to slog back. With a half an hour leeway, I could be there and back with food in two and a half hours. The terrorist was gone for four hours every Friday at exactly the same time. The trouble was that the dragon normally stayed behind. But according to Draco, the dragons spent the last three days of this month at a social gathering at the highest peak of the mountain. That three day window included a Friday eight weeks after my arrival in Malfoy Valley.

It came as a surprise, but Draco actually let me back into his cave-house to discuss the plans for my raid. He showed me the scrolls he had documenting the biannual congregation of dragons. I showed him my notes on the terrorist's schedule, focusing on my four hour window on Fridays. He showed me a detailed map of the area, which was much more zoomed in than the map I had. I showed him where it was the terrorist was flying, to a meeting with other terrorists on the other side of the mountain. And we agreed that the plan would work.

It was a cordial meeting in a large little used drawing room on the upper floor. Like our last meeting, he kept his distance. Twice he excused himself to deal with other matters. Once it was because an elf had signaled that there was a problem relating to the children. He dealt with the scraped knee and returned, without giving me so much as a peak at his kids. The other time he left the room came out of nowhere and no explanation was given. He burped, excused himself, and came back. Maybe he had gas and experiencing gas in public wasn't something purebloods did. It was probably considered impolite or something. Whatever the case, he returned after a time and we finished our meeting.

The day before the designated Friday, our problem dragon left, along with all of the other dragons. Even the ones with baby dragons went, with their broods of fledglings that had just learned to fly. They flew up the mountain to the highest peak, just as Draco had predicted. The mass migration of dragons was a sight to see, even if they didn't go that far. The terrorist left on his broom late Friday morning, just as I predicted. And I executed my raid flawlessly, dodging the two remaining poachers without incident and making it back to the Malfoy Cave with a month's worth of food. I was scraping the barrel of my food stores, eating even less than before and scrounging toast from Draco. But now I wouldn't have to take food from him and if I stretched it, it could last me another two months. By then winter would be over and hopefully our confinement too.

Lifton was waiting for me at the front door when I returned. "Master Draco has sent me to escort you into our home, sir," Lifton said.

"Right, just let me put this food in the cellar in my tent," I said.

"Might Auror Potter bring some of the food to Master Draco, sir?"

"I thought he had food. Is he out?"

"Master Draco is not out, but he hasn't been getting enough, sir. He's grown sick with hunger, sir."

When Draco told me he had no food to spare, I didn't think he meant that he was two pieces of toast a day shy of starving to death. He certainly didn't look like he'd lost weight at our strategy session. But then it occurred to me who it was we were talking about. This was the same Draco Malfoy who'd made a broken arm sound like he almost died. This was the boy who whined and moaned at every little Quidditch injury. Maybe he'd lived such a sheltered life that he'd never experienced hunger before.

"How bad is he?" I asked.

"Master is sick two or three times a day now, sir."

That was a funny way to put it, unless… "Sick, as in throwing up Lifton?"

The elf nodded, his long ears bobbing up and down with his head. "Lifton is not to be telling Harry that, sir. Lifton will have to punish himself."

"Why _did_ you tell me Lifton?"

"So you could help him, Harry Potter. You have food and Master needs more food, sir."

"How do you know that? If he's vomiting, he probably has a stomach bug, in which case food won't help."

"He was sick like this before, sir. We elves didn't know that we weren't feeding him enough. We elves started feeding him more and he recovered."

"Alright, what sort of food should I bring then? Something easy for his stomach, yeah?"

Lifton asked for grains: wheat, barely, and rice. They were the items they were the lowest on, because the Ministry anti-apparition ward had prevented them from buying grains in preparation for winter. I was hungry and wanted to eat soon, so I decided to grab a few more items and have the elves cook them up for lunch. I hadn't had meat in so long that the hunk of lamb was irresistible along with some veggies.

I put the rest of the food away in my tent and discovered a message that had come for me from the Ministry while I was away. I was still in regular communications with them through my protean charmed parchment. Luckily this message was less than a page long, so nothing was lost by my absence. I copied it over to a fresh sheet of parchment with a spell, taking it with me to show Draco. I handed the sacks of grains, lamb, and carrots to the elf and followed him down the long, narrow tunnel. Lifton walked me to the same drawing room in which Draco and I had met last time, before heading off in the direction of the kitchen.

Ten minutes later the elf was back with Draco, which was odd, because Draco had never required an elf escort before. He looked paler than usual too or maybe it was that his face was flushed in fever, but something was definitely different. He sat down in a high-backed chair on the other side of the room from me. Lifton handed him a cup of tea, which he sipped, before looking up at me.

"The raid was successful, I take it?" Draco asked.

I told him it was and filled him in on the details. It was a bit boring with the way everything had worked out and I was anxious to ask him about his health. As soon as he paused for another sip of tea, I asked, "Are you alright Draco? You look rather ill."

He nodded, "I've been feeling under the weather, but it's nothing that Bonnie's lamb, carrot, and barely soup can't fix. Thank you for providing the ingredients, by the way." He spoke slowly and his voice sounded spacey, confirming his illness, although he didn't sound stuffy, nor did he cough.

Soup wasn't what I had in mind. There was enough meat for a roast, but given his illness, maybe soup was best.

"Is it because I've been taking your toast?" It seemed implausible to me, but that is what the elf had said.

"In part. We have a reduced supply of grains already and without that toast, I fear my diet was unbalanced. Elves eat only crumbs and bugs and the boys are too little to go without, so all of the food I gave you came from my rations."

"An unbalanced diet doesn't normally cause this type of illness," I pointed out. He looked really sick, which was something that hunger didn't do in all of my experience with it. If it did, the muggles probably would've noticed that the Dursleys were starving me.

"I suspect I would've come down with this either way. The poor diet is making it harder for me to fight it and making me weaker."

That made more sense, so I let the subject drop. We talked then about the message I'd received from my boss. It wasn't good news. Apparently the terrorists were gaining support amongst the muggleborns and there were signs that another militia group in southern Norway was considering joining the fight. Up until now the militia group hadn't cost any lives and were relatively peaceful in their call to arms. But if they joined the Hrypa terrorists inside this reserve, then that would extend the siege indefinitely.

Draco was of the opinion that the Ministry should be doing more. I wanted it over, but I understood how hard it was to contain the island reserve, much less subdue it when the terrorists had dragons on their side. He stopped disagreeing with me and I thought I was winning him over to my way of seeing things, only to have him jump up and run to the nearest loo. I followed him, vanishing the few splotches of puke on the rug as I went. I guess he really was sick.

He slammed the door shut behind him and locked it, so I couldn't follow him into the loo. I could hear what was going on from my side of the door, so I knew he was vomiting. I banged on the door and asked if there was anything I could do to help. All I heard in response was the sound of retching. Thinking that maybe his elves could help him, I went in search of the kitchen. There were always house elves in the kitchen.

I went through the dining room to reach the kitchen, only to be stopped in my tracks by what I was seeing. Sotty was there with the twins, who were throwing an absolute fit. They wore matching robes were purple this time, but one bore the image of a blue dwarf star, while the other one bore a red giant star. The boy in blue was lying on the ground, kicking, screaming, and pounding his fists on the floor, while the one in red was sitting on the floor crying and squirming.

The elf seemed to be at a loss. "Sotty does not know what to do! Master Draco told Sotty to be putting the little masters down for their naps. They went down, but then got back up wanting juice. Sotty gave them juice, sir…" That this was the result was left unsaid.

"Sotty, Draco is vomiting. Can you get an elf to tend to him?" I asked, while taking the three steps to reach the blue child.

I picked the little boy up and held him the way I had when Teddy went through this stage. He continued to scream and his limbs flailed a bit, but he did seem startled enough to cease the worst of his fit. I soothed and comforted him, letting him rest his weary head on my shoulder. He was no different than any other over stimulated exhausted toddler lashing out at the prospect of having to walk back to his room.

As soon as I had the first one under control, I bent my knees and held my free arm out to the red boy. He climbed into the crook of my arm and let me soothe him too. Meanwhile Sotty was back from the kitchen and an older elf was off in Draco's direction with a cup of soup and crackers. I hoped it'd help, but I doubted it would.

"Sotty, lead me to the nursery," I requested.

"Right away, sir," Sotty replied, holding the door open for me.

The twins were both asleep by the time we finished the journey and reached their room. I laid them down side by side on the toddler bed with the red rocket on the comforter. I could've matched the colors on their outfits to the beds, but I didn't think that was necessary; they could sleep together for now.

I left Sotty with the twins, instructing her to signal me if there was any more trouble and went in search of Draco. I found him sitting on the marble floor in the loo, sipping his soup from a spoon. The older female elf was standing next to him, wringing her hands and clearly waiting for further instructions.

"Hey," I greeted softly.

"Hi," he croaked.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"A little. Where have you been?"

Oh shit! He'd ordered me to stay away from his sons and I'd just picked them up and put them to bed. I had to be careful with this or he might never let me in his house again. "Look Draco, I'm really sorry, but you clearly needed help. I only went to find an elf to help you, I swear to Merlin."

"Just as long as you didn't go near my sons." When I didn't say anything, he added, "You didn't go near their room, did you?"

"They weren't in their room. They were in the dining room throwing a fit. All I did was help Sotty move them to the nursery. They're asleep now."

"They were asleep when I came up here." He sounded angry.

"Yes, but Sotty said they woke up and asked for juice."

"And she couldn't just apparate in the juice, because of the ward, right. Urgh, just go away Potter and leave me and mine alone. This is all your Ministry's fault."

"But Draco, you're really sick and you clearly need help. I'm the only other adult human here. I can help you with the things elves can't do. Let me help you to your bed."

"So you can fuck me again Potter? No thanks."

"I won't do anything inappropriate, I swear. We don't even have to go all of the way down to your room; we could go into one of the rooms up here, just as long as you lay down."

"No, I need to be near my boys. They're only two and a half; they don't understand when I'm not there."

"Well how do you propose to get there without me?"

I had him there, it just took him a few minutes to accept it. Eventually he caved and let me help him up. He leaned on me as I slowly helped him down to his bedroom. After that he sent me away. I agreed to leave the room, but I wasn't going to leave the house when he was so sick. Instead I went to the dining room and had a bowl of Bonnie's soup and a large helping of roast lamb and carrots, which she prepared specially for me. It was pleasant being full. Afterwards I found Draco's study and read one of his books about dragon spirituality.

According to the book, there was a link between dragons and the first wizards. I wasn't sure how much of it could be believed and I definitely didn't buy into their explanation for the origin of wizards: a friendly muggle who made friends with a dragon, obtaining the dragon's kiss. These religious yahoos didn't even acknowledge that there was a difference between human magic and dragon magic, much less try to account for it; if one magic had its source from the other, then the magics would at least be similar, if not identical.

The majority of the book was on communing with dragons. Only purebloods had hope of having the crucial allele needed to commune with the dragon spirits and only the most ancient of them at that. It was all a bunch of nonsense, so I switched to watching Draco's monitoring charms of the island. I could always start planning my raid on the weapons cache.

* * *

Author's note: Now that Draco is ill, Harry has an excuse to stick around the cave. Maybe now he'll discover a few more of Draco's secrets.

I'd like to thank billjenny6972, vickythecharmedfan, and gyspywitch19 for reviewing the last chapter! You are awesome!

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	7. Chapter 7

In the months that followed, I went on three more raids. I obtained plenty of food and weapons, but no broom or boat. I stayed inside Malfoy Cave and now had my own room on the upper floor. Draco was still sick and didn't show any signs of improvement. If anything, he was getting sicker. The elves tried to treat the illness with food, but that worked about as well as any placebo. He self-medicated with anti-nausea potions, but that was a short term solution that didn't fully rectify the problem even temporally. What he needed was proper medical treatment prescribed by a healer, but there were no healers on the island.

With Draco sick, he needed help with his boys. He was reluctant to let me near them, but he had no choice in the matter and gracelessly conceded that I could help out. Broderick, the one always dressed in blue, and Roadrick, the one in red, were sweet little boys. At two and a half they were firmly lodged in the terrible twos and consequently threw their share of fits and tantrums, but I didn't hold that against them. They were also active, inquisitive, and intelligent. They'd go on adventures with me exploring the caves during the day and beg the same three stories about dragons, over and over again, during the night.

I thought that everything was working out as well as could be expected. The mysterious mind controlling affliction had not reoccurred, nor had the sex, and I'd studiously kept my distance. Draco was becoming used to my presence, no longer requiring such a large space to separate us. He never touched me or let me within his personal space, keeping the standard separating distance allotted to any stranger between us. We talked often, about the Hrypa terrorists, the dragons, how to build an escape boat, politics, the elves, and his sons.

The most intimate discussion we'd shared was when I'd asked him about the woman who had given the boys to him. "Who is their mother, Draco?"

"Her name is Leda Malfoy," he answered simply.

"Malfoy? I didn't know you married." I'd thought that since the conception wasn't consensual that there was no chance of the victims marrying, despite the resulting twins. But maybe pureblood customs were so strict as to mandate marriage even in a situation like this one.

He took a minute before answering. "We're not. She was born a Malfoy; she's my second cousin. Malfoys don't typically marry our second cousins, but I admit this solved some problems. It explains why they look so much like me; they look like her too."

"What problems?" I asked curiously.

"A Malfoy heir. The two of us were the last of the Malfoys. She was being pressured by her father to marry a pureblood, settle down, and have children. I felt the same pressure from the emptiness of the Manor, but I couldn't stomach the idea of a wife. For Leda's part, she was in love with a merman. She wanted to marry him and dreamed of half-breed children. She was finally going to have it."

"Did she leave the children and run off with the merman?"

"She left the children, but she meant to come back. She wouldn't abandon them." His voice was sad.

And then it clicked: it all connected. "The war got in her way. She couldn't come back, with the anti-apparition ward in place."  
"She never left the island. Her boyfriend lived in one of the lakes south of here."

It hit me suddenly and I realized that it was so much worse than I'd thought. The terrorists attacked the merpeople, slaughtering the lot. If Leda Malfoy had been with the merpeople, there was a good chance she was dead. "Oh…" I said sadly, not knowing what to say.

"I still have hope. Her mother's family has a cave on the east side of the island; it's much easier to get to from the lake. You must've evacuated her already. She'll come back once this is all over."

"I keep records for the Ministry of everyone I evacuate or leave behind. There were no Malfoys."

He didn't reply to that. He looked strained, but didn't cry. Judging by his subdued reaction, he must've known this was coming. Either that or he wasn't as prone to theatrics as I'd thought.

That conversation was weeks ago now and I thought we were getting along, even becoming friends. But then today I was taken by surprise when he said, "You should leave, Potter. There won't be any storms this week. You can make your way to the east side of the island and find a boat to take you to shore. The eastern people fish, so you will most definitely be able to find a boat, maybe even a broom."

"I'm not going to leave you like this. You're still sick and you've got two young children," I replied. He'd just come from the loo, where I knew he'd been sick again. The boys had been fine playing with their toys this time, but next time he might need me. I wanted to leave once the snow melts in the spring, to get a portkey and broom and return for the family. On the other hand, I also didn't want to go until he was better. But, if he didn't get better, I would have to go to bring him help. Maybe it was better I go sooner…

"I'm getting better, I can feel it. I've had this before, you know, and this was how I felt when I started getting better last time. This month, I promise you, will be the month when it stops. Any day now will be the last of it."

I wanted that to be true, but I didn't believe him. "You're just trying to get rid of me. You've been sick twice already today."

He let out a huff and said, "Just you wait and see: I'm on the mend. If there's a significant improvement by next week, then will you leave?"

"If there's a significant improvement, yes, but I'll need time to prepare," I conceded. I would have to start working on my plan to escape from the island. I didn't want to take a boat, because I was pants at sailing, so I'd aim for a cave whose residence had had brooms before I'd evacuated them. I hoped I could get inside and find a broom.

He was satisfied by my answer. I thought there was a chance he was going to try to hide his illness and I resolved to watch him closely over the coming weeks; he might lie about how much he vomited or keep it at bay with a particularly strong batch of anti-nausea potion. But I saw no evidence of that, only a slight decrease in his trips to the loo with his hands covering his mouth and an absence of potion vials. It was gradual, but after two weeks he was down to an average of one incident in the mornings. He'd be queasy at times during the day, but he was able to stave it off.

By the third week, there was hardly any vomiting at all and I had to concede that he was on the mend. My plan for my departure was about as good as it could be, given the limited information I had on the state of the island outside this valley. One side trip, to obtain the memory crystal from the merpeople, was a necessity, to find out what happened to them. I would try to hit the occupied caves along the way, to obtain shelter. I also wanted to see if any of the cave yahoos had changed their minds about evacuating the island or if they had information on the movement of terrorists in their area. If I was going back to work, I might as well return with as much intelligence as possible.

During my last meeting with Draco, I made him promise to keep him and the boys safe inside the cave, no matter what happened to me. He had his surveillance charms to keep him informed of what was going on around him and he promised that even if my life was in danger, he wouldn't leave the safety of the cave as long as his charms indicated the presence of terrorists on the island. I had the impression that that wasn't a hard promise for him to make.

Draco also promised to keep me posted on terrorist movements and how he and the boys were doing with the Protean charmed parchment I gave him. I didn't have an extra, but I learned how to make them long ago during Auror training, so it was easy to make a new pair of charmed parchments for us. If it wasn't for those parchments, I didn't think I would feel comfortable leaving him there like that. He was, after all, alone with a pair of young toddlers and recovering from illness and I worried about what could happen to him. What if the illness came back? What if the boys got sick? Or worse, what if the terrorists went after them and somehow breached his security defenses. But I had to go now to return with a portkey to rescue them, so I went.

It was an unusually clear day when I set out. Snow still blanketed the slopes of the mountains, but it was melting and spring was coming at last. The first thing I did was look for my invisibility cloak, but I couldn't see it amongst all of the snow. I tried summoning it to me, but it didn't come and I saw no sign of movement, just as there had been no movement the previous times I'd left the cave and looked for it. I hoped it wasn't damaged, but was forced to go on without it.

I worried that my first stop, the lake, would be hard to locate with the lake frozen over, but that wasn't the case. The lake had thawed along one shore, the blue-green water standing out in a sea of white and green pine. The exact location of the memory crystal was harder to locate, covered in three feet of snow. I tried to locate it using the trees as markers, but there were half a dozen trees that in their snow-covered states, could've been the tree I was looking for. Thus I had to dig down through three feet of snow to the base of four trees before I found the right one.

The memory crystal was stored inside a magical box carved into the base of the tree, marked only by the groove from the joint of the lid and a heart carved into the bark. The heart was the symbol for the southern mertown. This was one of the larger lakes on the island and had once contained a thriving little town under the water. Their records, although recorded in mermish, would surely hold clues as to what exactly had transpired here during the early days of the terrorist occupation and hopefully the massacre that followed. Even if the information in this crystal saved no lives, it would be important evidence in a trial.

I was starting to think I was never going to get the sacred heart box open. I'd only been trying for an hour, but I was freezing cold, wet from melting snow, and had a long way to go today. I needed this memory crystal, but not at all cost. I could always come back for it later, when it was warmer and not nearly so miserable. It was possible that I was skipping some crucial step that Draco had forgotten to mention or that I couldn't remember; otherwise I was just pronouncing it wrong.

Draco said it would be simple to access the memory crystal. All I had to do was speak the mermish words for, "Open Heart." I also had to imbibe the words with my pure emotions showing no hatred or ill-will towards the merpeople. I definitely felt no desire to harm the merpeople, but I resented them for making this task so hard and that may have hindered my progress. I also wasn't sure I had the pronunciation right, so I kept trying different ways of saying it. My mermish was questionable at best and downright atrocious, bordering on nonexistent most of the time, so it wouldn't surprise me at all if that was the problem. If only I'd studied the odd screeching language like the late Professor Dumbledore had this might have been so much easier.

I thought back to the harsh rasping sounds I remembered from the Triwizard Tournament and my various other encounters with the language and tried to reproduce the hideous noise. And then, when I was about ready to give up, the rectangular piece of bark popped up, revealing a hollowed out chamber underneath and a two inch long clear hexagonal crystal on a leather string. I snatched up the crystal and slung it around my neck, tucking it securely into my clothes. Then I replaced the lid and was off again.

I stopped at various caves along the way, locating the few occupants who had chosen to stay, refusing my earlier portkey. Most of them were glad to see me, eager for a bit of human contact now that their friends and family had gone. Not that they wanted to leave their home, because most of them were just as insistent on staying as ever. Although, Old Man MacDhiarmaid did ask that I bring him back a portkey, because his rations were low and he was finally ready to abandon his home.

The locals relayed to me their observations of the local terrorist movements, which I recorded gladly. Most of the information corroborated what I'd already learned from Draco's surveillance charms, but some of it was new. I didn't know how useful most of it would be, but I was certain that their reports on movements to the southeast would prove invaluable. Exiting the island from the southeast would provide the shortest oversea distance to the mainland and it was the route I meant to take, because it was the route I took in. But that was also one of the routes the terrorists occasionally used to bring in supplies and were watching for potential attack from the Ministry.

The passage was not without risks, which was why I bunkered down in one of the caves of the MacFusty clan near the entrance to the critical valley that lead to my escape point. The MacFustys were gone, but one of their cousins, Sean MacEalair, was still there. Sean was the most closely related able bodied wizard left after the terrorists wiped out almost all of the ancient family, so he had elected to stay, to protect the dragons. He wasn't making much of a difference at the moment, but he had taken it upon himself to record every detail of terrorist activity in his region.

I hadn't made him a Protean charmed parchment before, but I made him one now and showed him how to use it. The last time I'd been to see him my goal was to evacuate everyone. My latest orders, however, were to hand out charmed parchments to everyone who refused to leave, so that my fellow Aurors could gather as much intelligence on the terrorists as possible. Getting them out to the people would be a chore, but at least I was only under orders to get them to those I happen to come across, so I won't have to go traipsing across the island just for that.

In my absence, Sean will be able to use the parchment to communicate directly with the Ministry. I'd hand over my copy of the charmed parchment to my superiors at the Ministry as soon as I return. Another Auror would then be directed to keep in touch with MacEalair, along with all of the other wizards I manage to leave similar parchments with on the island. Procedure dictated that I was to do the same with the parchment linked to Draco, but I didn't want to. I wanted to keep in touch with Draco myself, so I was keeping his.

I started by learning all I could of the terrorists' movements in the area and Sean was the perfect wizard to ask. As the self-appointed protector of the island, he'd went on dozens of his own raids, confiscating supplies from terrorists and imprisoning anyone he could subdue. He'd captured three terrorists so far. Two had escaped before he could hand them over to the Ministry, but one had successfully been picked up by Aurors and was reported to be safely ensconced within Azkaban. One down, untold numbers to go.

There didn't seem to be a pattern in the terrorists' movements, or at least there wasn't one the untrained MacEalair had noticed. I would have to watch for weeks to discern the best time to go. On the plus side, he'd confiscated enough food from the terrorists to last us for months and even had a stash of brooms taken off of the three terrorists he'd captured. They weren't top of the line brooms, but they were functional and my best hope for flying across the icy channel separating the Hebrides Islands from Scotland.

It took me weeks of surveillance work, but eventually I found a pattern. Unlike Malfoy Valley, this valley wasn't left unmanned during their weekly Friday meetings. A pair of wizards were always left behind on guard. I was able to discern the pattern: there were only a total of four different wizards left behind in pairs, with one pair one week and the other pair the following week, before repeating. So by the time the fourth Friday rolled around, I was absolutely certain the weaker pair would remain.

I used explosives Sean had confiscated from the terrorists, setting off an avalanche of snow at the exact moment the pair was flying under it, patrolling the valley. I was ready to go with my broom, racing out the narrow valley towards the open sea. But one of the pair, the big burly one with one eyebrow, somehow resurfaced from the avalanche and gave chase. The only thing I had to work with was the snow precariously balanced on top of the ridges bordering the valley.

Being spring, the snow was melting, destabilizing the extensive mounds of frozen water that formed during the winter. Just at the exit of the valley there was a scooped out structure to the snow, where the compact ice had been pushed to extend out over the supporting rock, held in place by its solid attachment to the larger portion of ice still resting on the rock. The lower portion had melted, loosing contact and falling away to the valley floor below. The upper portion was melting and in danger of falling. I merely helped it along.

I cast bombarda maxima at the ice, making it fall behind me, blocking off the terrorist pursuing me. It did what I planned and more, a thunderous crack ripping through the valley and signaling that I'd set off more of a reaction than I'd planned. Between the spell, the earlier explosion at the other end of the valley, and the melting of the snow, the winter ice was on the move, rolling down the side of the cliff, into the valley below, creating a solid wall of ice, snow, and mud between me and Sean's cave.

I saw no sign of either terrorist as I reached the shore. There was a port there used by the terrorists, along with a supply cave. I took the opportunity to raid the cave, stuffing all of the food and weapons into my knapsack. It only all fit because of the exceedingly generous undetectable extension charm on the bag. The one thing I couldn't fit into my bag was the boat tied up at the docks. I wanted to take it, because I was certain the terrorists were using it, but it didn't fit through the opening of my bag. Instead I destroyed it, scattering the pieces into the sea in hopes of wrecking it beyond repair.

I thought about damaging the dock itself, but the Ministry too needed it to transport supplies in if they were ever going to take back the island, so I left it. I did, however, ensconce it within several wards only Ministry officials should be able to break. Obviously the terrorists had gained control of it before and without wizards defending it, they would likely crack the wards open and control it again. In all likelihood there were terrorists who'd formerly worked for the Ministry and knew all of our wards and the counter spells to unlock them. But the wards were better than nothing, all I had to work with, and I had more important things to do, like get off of this island.

I kicked off of the ground, taking to the air above the turbulent sea, hoping to make a safe crossing. I'd made the crossing many times before, but never on such an old broom, with such a turbulent sea underneath, or with such gusting winds to navigate through. It was a calm day in early spring, but the best day in early spring was still worse than the relative calm of the fall sea. With all of the snow melt stirring things up, it'd be weeks, if not months, before the crossing calmed down. But I needed to make the crossing now and didn't have months to spare, so I risked it, flying at top speed into the surging wind.

* * *

Author's Note: And so Harry has left Draco…There is no telling how long it will take him to return or what dangers he'll have to face to do so, because getting off the island was only a part of the battle. There is still the adventure-filled return to go.

I'd like to thank sghazalifard, Verdedracul, eris8656, billjenny6972, gyspywitch19, vickythecharmedfan, and DCullen07 for reviewing the last chapter! Your feedback helped me decide where to go with this chapter :)

Please Review!


	8. Chapter 8

The trip off of the island was hard and the long flight over the open sea seemed like it was never going to end, but eventually it did and I made it back. I reached the end of the anti-apparition ward when the Scottish shore was insight. Without bothering to reach that shore, I turned on the spot in midair, broom in hand, and apparated back to Auror headquarters. I was allowed a short rest to recuperate and a nice lunch and then I was thrust into the hot seat, explaining just what had happened.

My bosses were very pleased with my work, especially that I'd managed to obtain the merpeople's memory crystal. They took the crystal from me immediately and sent it to a mer-expert to analyze. Then there was all of the information I'd obtained on the terrorists movements on my way out, including the parchment charmed to communicate with Sean. It would all be gone over and analyzed to death.

The Ministry was interested in using me as a source of knowledge to defeat the terrorists. They wanted to send me back in with a small scouting party to regain a footing by the docks. From there they'd organize their take-back of the island. They offered me portkeys to take with me, to offer to the locals still trapped in their caves, but since every one of the trapped witches and wizards had refused the first portkey offered them, the Ministry didn't feel that the innocent civilians were their top concern.

I, on the other hand, felt that Draco Malfoy and the two Malfoy children were my top concern. I had my regular communication with Draco assuring me that they were safe and healthy, along with the details of the terrorist activity he'd observed with his surveillance charms. I didn't have a specific reason to get back, besides his abating illness, but still I had the uncontrollable feeling that I had to return and was needed in that cave. He was not the type of person to ask for help and I kept thinking that there was more going on than he was telling me.

Unfortunately, both the plan for taking over the island and the plan for returning to the Malfoys had to wait. It was still early spring and the storms returned with a fierce vengeance upon the island. The avalanche of snow that I'd set off upon my departure had blocked the main access valley. I'd assumed it would be quickly cleared away by the terrorists, aided by the melting from the sun. But with a return of the winter storms, Sean MacEalair reported that the snow and ice had refrozen, blocking the valley.

The terrorists, of course, hadn't abandoned the shore, but had used one of the much further and more inconvenient valleys to access the southwestern shore. The wards I'd placed on the dock had been removed and the area was once again under enemy control. Thus Sean, trapped in his cave at the other end of the valley, was demobilized, but the terrorists weren't. We would either have to take an alternative route into the island or wait for the ice blockade to melt.

The weather was just starting to warm up and the ice finally resuming its melting, when the mer-expert returned their report on the mer-memory crystal I'd located. It was good news, because the entire town wasn't annihilated as we'd feared. Instead the survivors had retreated to the underground system of caves where they had an emergency stronghold. It was part of the same system that let out into the bottommost level of the Malfoy Cave, but miles away and not likely traversable. All of their great fighters had either died defending the village or been severely injured in the process, so it was mostly the old, injured, and female merpeople left.

The discovery meant that the surviving merpeople were in need of rescuing. They'd already been confined to a small underwater cave with limited food supplies for over six months and they couldn't be expected to hold out much longer. Many of the refugees had been in need of medical aid and with the amount of time that had already passed, the only thing we could do about that was hope they had recovered. It was unlikely that any of the critically injured merpeople had survived this long, although that depended on just how bad the injuries were, what sort of medical equipment had been stored in the shelter, and whether or not any mer-healers had survived and gone with them.

The survival of these merpeople meant that the Ministry's plans for taking back the island had to wait until after the upcoming rescue attempt. And if some of their numbers had survived, the same was likely true of the other mertowns on the island, each of which would require its own rescue mission. Thus the take back of the island was put on hold indefinitely until the situation with the merpeople could be dealt with.

I wanted back on the island as soon as possible and to that aim, I decided to volunteer my services to be part of the rescue team sent to evacuate merpeople. I let my intentions to break apart from the group to deliver portkeys to civilians and to rejoin the Malfoy family be known from the start. Luckily there were two other Aurors being sent in the rescue party, so they would be able to continue on without me. There was every possibility that these merfolk would give us directions to the strongholds of the other mertowns that existed on the island and that further rescue missions would be necessary.

Given that we were dealing with merpeople and an underwater rescue, there was special equipment that was necessary. Each Auror going was proficient with the Bubblehead charm, which was our primary means of diving under water. But if that failed, we had Gillyweed in our knapsacks for emergencies. Then there were the portkeys, which were special underwater portkeys, programmed to transport the merfolk to a special underwater mer-shelter. From there the mer-experts would be sent in to question them.

I was well suited to the team of three Aurors who were sent back onto the island. We flew in and used my expertise to navigate and to evade the terrorists. Going with me was Caireall MacIlleThòmhais, who was from Scotland, and Ford Mathieson, a mer-expert. On a rescue of merpeople, a mer-expert was a necessity. Given that I was not to be continuing on with them for any additional rescue missions, a native who was willing to be brought up to speed on the situation was also a must. Caireall had visited the island many times, so I hoped it would be easy for him to pick up the details regarding the terrorists, the remaining civilians, and the lakes that were once inhabited by merpeople.

Flying across the turbulent channel of harsh sea was hard, but what was worse was that before we even got within landing range of the island, the terrorists were onto us. There was one very large male dragon on patrol and he smelt us. We'd assumed we'd be safe, at least initially, because Ford and I had invisibility cloaks on, while Caireall's Disillusionment charm was so strong that he appeared invisible. My invisibility cloak was still lost inside Malfoy Valley, but I'd long ago bought a spare, which was mostly so I had one to lend to Ron, who couldn't afford to buy himself one and wouldn't accept the gift.

If it was just human lookouts, they wouldn't have noticed us flying right under their noses, but a dragon has a much stronger sense of smell. The chase began and we were off and flying, turning southwest along the shore instead of northwest through the valley. He chased us on dragon back, blaring hot flames shooting at us from its mouth, dragon roars reverberating through the air and making our little brooms vibrate. I turned my head sideways to see an intense large purple eye staring back at where it knew me to be, despite not being able to see me.

I had, of course, switched out the old broom I acquired for my exodus from the island for a new top of the line model. But when there is a dragon at your back, having a new broom between ones legs is less than reassuring. The fact that my companions were invisible to me, but detectable to the dragon was also not reassuring. At least my tracking charm I'd cast on them was still holding, which meant I could feel a pull indicating their location. I could only surmise from the way they were flying with me that the ones they'd cast on me were still holding and that they could tell where I was as well.

Of course Ford and Caireall were expert flyers, keeping up with me as I evaded the dragon's fire by shooting up into the air, diving back down, and looping around the dragon. The dragon summersaulted in midair to face us, in order for his flame to have a chance at catching us. Luckily dragons are not the most intelligent of creatures and in the process, this one exposed his belly. The three of us Aurors cast our stunning spells in quick succession, training taking the place of planning, before the dragon could right himself.

Three stunners are not enough to take down a fully grown dragon, but it is enough to momentarily distract one. While the dragon shook his massive black head and hesitated, we cast another three stunners, hitting him square in the belly. Six stunners were enough to confuse the dragon, who retreated to lick his wounds, taking the terrorist on his back with him. There was no time to waste, because more terrorists would follow and soon replace their fallen comrade, so we took off towards the caves to find shelter. We didn't know whether or not they had a second dragon nearby and we had to assume the worst.

The valley that was the most direct way in was still partially blocked by a layer of ice. We could've flown through easily enough, but there were too many terrorists in the vicinity. According to Draco and the other civilian intelligence, they had changed their pattern and were no longer meeting on Fridays, but on Tuesdays. Well it was Tuesday, but the valley had more than two guards keeping a lookout. Besides the terrorist mounted on the now defeated dragon, we'd seen another half a dozen on brooms. Either the terrorist organization had grown so that it could now spare more guards, the intelligence information was wrong and they weren't meeting today, or they were now more wary of Ministry attack from that direction.

Whatever the case, we couldn't go back through the valley. Instead we hugged the cliffs bordering the steep shoreline of the island, until we came across a cave where I remembered a pair of young civilian males, Eònan and Eòran, had lived. This pair had belonged to a larger family and while everyone else in the family had evacuated, the duo had chosen to stay to keep an eye out and protect their cave. When I turned up with the two other Aurors, appearing out of nowhere as invisibility cloaks and disillusionment charms were removed, the brothers agreed to let us take shelter.

Eònan and Eòran caught us up on the latest of the terrorists' movements, reporting that they had indeed seen the terrorists migrating upwards into the island for their weekly meeting today. They never went close to the port and their own surveillance charms didn't reach that far, but they speculated that six guards and a dragon was now the minimum number of terrorists left to guard the most important port on the island. They also agreed to take one of our protean charmed parchments and to communicate any additional information gathered straight to the Ministry; a satchel of already charmed parchments was just one of the items the Ministry had sent me out with this time around, so I didn't even have to take the time to make one.

That was good news, because it meant that it was still a good time to move. The terrorists would be after us, but only the rest of the half dozen. It would take hours for the others to come down from their meeting or for one of the guards on duty to fetch them. In the meantime, our group of three only had to dodge a few terrorists and take the long way around, which was exactly what we did. Of course it was much easier with us being freshly invisible and them now without a dragon.

We got all of the way to the next valley, the southernmost inlet into the interior of the island, before the terrorists were able to pick up our trail again. This time there was no dragon, but a secrecy detection charm. It detected our presence and sent the alarms blaring. The pair of guards on patrol immediately went on high alert, trying to pick us out, but that was a difficult task and they only had the two of them and no dragon. Evidentially, the terrorists really were at their meeting today and word had not yet spread to this valley.

One of the terrorists cast a spell that countered disillusionment charms, making Caireall suddenly visible. Ford and I were fine in our cloaks, but we couldn't abandon Caireall, who the pair of terrorists was now chasing. Instead we let Caireall go ahead without us and hung back, stunning the terrorists as soon as they pulled ahead of us. Then we were tasked with what to do with our captives. The Ministry couldn't let us take the type of portkey which could be activated at any time upon touch, because those were dangerous if they got into enemy hands. The anti-apparition ward was still firmly in place, there was no floo access, and we didn't want to murder our prisoners. The only choice we had left to us was to continue on until we reach another inhabited cave and deposit our prisoners. We would then have to beg the owner of the cave to watch the prisoners until it was time to take one of the portkeys back to the Ministry, where the terrorists could be safely dropped off.

Thus the three of us bound the terrorists tightly with incarcerous spells, strapped them onto the back of our brooms, and took off with our burdens through the valley. The first inhabited cave contained an older witch and her teenaged son, so it was no surprise when she refused to help us. It was slightly surprising that the pair still refused to leave the island, but then they had refused the first time as well. The only thing they didn't refuse taking was the charmed parchment for communication purposes. We continued on and faced a similar situation at the next cave, which contained an elderly couple, who also wouldn't help or leave.

Finally, at the third inhabited cave, we found a middle aged wizard named Ualas who'd stayed behind with his crups. He agreed to help, showing us where we could safely leave our prisoners. It was a barren stone room with a heavy solid rock door, moveable only with magic, so it was unlikely that they would be able to escape without their wands, even if they did manage to break through the incarcerous. And to top it off, Ualas had muggle ropes, which he used to bind the captives. We were reasonably certain that he'd be safe for the two days it'd take for the portkey to activate and that he'd get the terrorists securely into Ministry hands.

We couldn't stay long and securing the prisoners had already taken up so much of our time, but we felt we had to stay long enough to inform Ualas of what was going on. Plus we wanted whatever information Ualas had for us. He added that from what he could tell, the western route to the merpeople's lake was the less heavily traveled by the terrorists. The terrorists tended to keep to the eastern side of the island and the western route was particularly hard to travel through the inhospitable terrain.

We thanked Ualas for all of his help and set off to the west, stopping at a cave where an entire family, the Sgèins, had refused to leave. We'd been informed prior to our departure that this family was out of food and requesting that we come back with a portkey to rescue them, having used one of the local sea birds to deliver the message to the Ministry. Apparently they thought the standoff would be long over by now and weren't prepared to hold out any longer. My bosses had said we were to rescue them if we could, but not to jeopardize the merfolk to get them. Since Ualas' information led us in the Sgèins' direction, we stopped for them, handing over the portkey.

By this time it was already dark. We didn't want to travel under the cover of darkness, because it was a cloudy night, with no moon or stars to light our way. We daren't use our wands, for fear of calling attention to ourselves and we didn't know the rugged terrain well enough to attempt it blind. Therefore we stayed the night with the Sgèin family, sleeping on conjured cots in their sitting room.

We left first thing in the morning, once more donning our invisibility cloaks, casting our disillusionment charms, and taking off on our brooms. We made one more stop, this time at the cave of a pair of lonely old widows who really ought to have accepted the first portkey and been evacuated long ago. Most of the civilians had been in contact with their neighbors, but no one so far had seen or heard from these two. I hoped that it was only because they were too old to see properly and didn't want to risk leaving their cave, but I feared the worst.

The worst proved to be just the case with the widowed sisters. One was found in her bed, dead of apparent natural causes, but it was hard to tell. Was it a heart attack or Avada Kedavra? A healer and an autopsy would be needed to make the determination. The other sister was obviously killed from the dragon burns she'd suffered. I could just imagine that having lost her sister, the little old lady went out to give the terrorists a piece of her mind. She had her pointer finger up as if she were waggling it while telling a younger person off.

We didn't have time to transport the corpses to the Ministry, but we did record what evidence we could find and secure the bodies. It took most of the day, given that it was a murder investigation. This lady was a dragon yahoo, so there wasn't a warlock alive who'd believe a dragon would harm her just outside her own cave. Even if there wasn't a human riding the dragon who'd killed her and it was simply one of the more dangerous dragons letting off some steam, the death wouldn't have happened if the terrorists hadn't let the dangerous dragons loose. This type of situation was one of the reason those dragons were chained up in the first place.

The murder was a disappointing setback and there was little evidence left, because nothing out of the ordinary could be found inside and the elements had destroyed most of the evidence outside the cave. But on the bright side, that meant we were once again off to find the remaining merpeople not long before supper time. We weren't far and the path was crossed easily on broom, so we found ourselves at the western shore of the desired lake just as the sun set. We took a break for a bite to eat, before our real task began.

The water was dark and cold, but we had bubble charms around our heads, heating charms on our bodies, and our wands lighting our way. Our brooms and invisibility cloaks were stowed away in our waterproof knapsacks, unneeded for the rest of today's journey. The knapsacks increased the drag on our bodies from the water and slowed us down, but we couldn't jettison them, because they had all of our supplies, including the much needed portkeys.

It was a long miserable journey, our heating charms wearing off long before we found the correct path. Luckily I had become proficient with nonverbal spells ages ago, so I was able to recast the spell even under water. Still, I couldn't maintain a lumos while casting a heating charm, so I had to rely on the light from Ford and Caireall while I did it. I did the same for them when they needed it, but it meant that we had to stop frequently.

The worst part about the journey was that we kept getting lost. None of us had ever entered this lake before and we were completely unfamiliar with the underground water system. We were supposed to be finding the channel that led to the stronghold the merpeople had retreated to, but we kept finding other channels that led back the way we came, nowhere, or in the wrong direction entirely. Luckily our Point-Me spells quickly indicated when we were going the wrong way, so we didn't waste too much time before going back and finding another channel.

Eventually we did find the correct path and we knew this one was right, because of the heart that was engraved on the stone walls. This group of merpeople took the heart to symbolize their town, their town name translating to HeartTown in Mermish. We didn't know we should be looking for it, but once we found the symbol, we knew this was the right way. It was a good thing it was there, because the channel initially led too far down, making us think it couldn't be the right one. But then it went back up, creating a U-shaped bend and heading in exactly the right direction.

The most upsetting part of the journey was the fact that there were dead half-eaten merbodies littered along the floor of this tunnel. The bodies started out as nothing more than scraps that could've been from anything, but as we got further in, the bodies became more and more intact, until we could recognize them for what they really were: sentient beings. The number and frequency of the bodies increased until we reached a solid wall of bodies.

Luckily we were prepared for this, Ford the mer-expert having brought a body bag with an undetectable extension charm on it. It was common practice in times of danger for merpeople to hide themselves away in an underwater stronghold and use the bodies of their dead to create a protecting wall. Thus Ford had known to bring the body bag and we simple had to scoop a body into the bag and move on to the next one.

It was hard, disgusting, gruesome work, but we eventually cleared the blockage. The tunnel let out into a large underground cavern, full of merfolk. There was nowhere near as many merpeople as had lived in the lake, but it was a relief to know that so many beings were still alive when once presumed dead.

Ford announced us in Mermish as Aurors from the Ministry, come to rescue them. There was fear and confusion at first, but then a pair of officials came forward to converse with Ford in Mermish. Not speaking Mermish ourselves, Caireall and I had to wait and leave this step up to Ford. Luckily Ford was considerate and asked the merpeople to lead Caireall and me to a place to rest, if they had one. Worst case scenario we'd have to rest underwater on the stone floor, but luckily there was a small pocket of air in the cavern with a smooth stone surface for us to lie on.

"Thank you kind Aurors for coming to the rescue of my people," the merman escort said. He was a very old merman, his piscine face heavily lined with wrinkles. He had patchy discolored scales and grey hair surrounding his large bald spot.

"You speak English?" I asked surprised.

"Yes Harry Potter, I do. I am the only survivor who does, which is why I was asked to escort you and your partner to the shore."

"What's your name?" Caireall asked.

The old merman gave an answer that was harsh and screeching. We didn't mean to be rude, but we couldn't help raise our hands to our ears.

"You may call me Grandfather; everyone else does," the merman added.

"Grandfather, you're welcome, about rescuing your people I mean," I said and the merman nodded, while my partner began to dig around in his knapsack for dry clothes and something to eat. We had been up all night and were exhausted, but it was nearly breakfast time and we were hungry again. "Can I ask you about a human? One was supposed to be down by your lake when the Hrypa terrorists attacked your people," I said.

"I have seen many humans die, which one in particular are you referring to?" Grandfather asked.

"Leda Malfoy. She was dating a merman."

"There were no humans dating mermen and there never have been. Our species are not compatible. Nor have I heard of this Leda Malfoy."

"Are you sure?" I asked. Maybe Draco was mistaken or maybe Leda had lied to him.

"I am sure. The only Malfoys on the island are male; one adult and two children with the kiss of the dragon. There has not been a female Malfoy on the island in over a hundred years."

"Thank you for your help," I replied.

"You are very much welcome Harry Potter. I will leave you now, but if you need anything, all you have to do is call for me," he said, before slipping back into the water.

Caireall and I dried off, ate, and conjured cots to sleep on before Ford returned with news. It seemed that the mer-officials were reasonably certain that the other mer-villages on the island would've secluded themselves into their own underwater strongholds. They informed Ford of the locations of both the strongholds and the memory crystals and Ford relayed the information to us, before transferring it to the Ministry via his Protean charmed parchment. Ford and Caireall would wait here for a day for the underwater portkeys to activate, travel back to the mainland with the merpeople, and then set off to find the others. I, on the other hand, would get my fill of sleep before setting off for the Malfoy cave.

* * *

Author's Note: Up next Harry will finally make it back to Malfoy Cave and confront Draco regarding what he hasn't learned of Leda…

I would like to thank DCullen07, vickythecharmedfan, billjenny6972, sghazalifard, and gyspywitch19 for reviewing the last chapter! Your feedback is awesome!

Please Review!


	9. Chapter 9

The trip to the Malfoy cave was even more eventful this time, not only because I stopped at civilian inhabited caves along the way, but also because the terrorists were on heightened alert. There had been no sign of me and the other Aurors since we captured that pair of guards in the southern valley, but they thought we were up to something and increased their patrols. The human patrols were nothing to me with my invisibility cloak, but the dragons were a problem.

I was growing very weary of being chased by angry dragons and almost getting burnt to a crisp and that wasn't the only issue. Every time I passed an inhabited cave, I stopped to offer a portkey and a protean charmed parchment. Some of the residents were now low enough on their food stores to accept the portkey, but many more refused, intent on holding their ground. There was one young hothead halfblood named Taran who started spouting off Hrypa propaganda. He had a cousin who was killed by Death Eaters during the war, which was unusual for a cave yahoo, because their lot tended to be confined to just the purebloods.

I spent several hours trying to talk some sense into Taran, only to convince myself that he couldn't be allowed to stay. He might go out and get himself killed by trying to join the dangerous terrorist organization. The terrorists had already proved to have no respect for the lives of cave yahoos and were known to disdain the dragon mysticism religion, which he practiced so devoutly he wouldn't leave the island, even when war broke out. He thought they'd get on, but I thought it'd end badly. If not and he successfully joined our enemies offering them a vital resource in himself and his knowledge of the land, he'd make our defeat of the terrorists more difficult.

The only solution was to see that Taran took a portkey back to the mainland. I had one in my bag that was set to go off in twenty-two hours, which was too long to wait around and just long enough to make a detour prior to. There was only one way into Malfoy Valley, so the further I went, arching back from my trip around the southern lake, the closer I got to the original path I'd taken off of the island all of those months ago. At the crossing, where the two paths met, I turned away from Malfoy Valley and continued towards the sea.

It took me half a day, but I finally reached my destination. There was a starving old man named MacDhiarmaid there who'd asked me to bring him back a portkey. I did him one better, I brought him back a portkey set to go off later in the week and enough food to cover him until then. He had only avoided starving to death by raiding the empty caves of his evacuated neighbors and because Sean MacEalair had on several occasions brought him food stolen from the terrorists. The man thanked me profusely and begged me stay and chat for a while, but I had to go.

I had to get back to Taran's cave before my first portkey went off without him. I had no time to sleep and instead turned right back around the way I'd come. It took me longer to fly back, because I was tired, but I made it with half an hour to spare. Taran tried to argue with me when I told him what was going to happen, but I was exhausted by this time and having none of it. Instead I threatened to arrest him and then send him back if he didn't go on his own and stay away from the island until the cessation of hostilities. Put in terms like that, he left.

I stayed in Taran's cave to sleep, being too exhausted to go anywhere else. I slept through the rest of the day and took the night to catch up on sending in my reports to the Aurors. They would need to know why I'd forced Taran to evacuate and that I'd gotten Old Man MacDhiarmaid food and a portkey. Plus they needed my reports on everyone else I'd passed and everything I'd seen. A message came through my parchment for me in return, letting me know that my two partners had successfully relocated all of the merfolk.

Once my communication needs were handled, I focused on my hygiene, having not bathed since reaching the island. Draco was a stickler for hygiene and I desired to show up looking my best, because I wanted to impress him. Of course nothing further sexual had happened since that one night, but I still held hopes that he'd come around. We were perfect for each other and he'd eventually have to see it too; at least I hoped so. Thus a bath, a shave, and a change of clothes were in order.

After I dressed, I ate breakfast and took off into the newly risen dawn for Malfoy Valley. I made two stops along the way, handing out one more portkey to a wizard my age named Camshron who was finally ready to leave. He asked for one that wouldn't come for at least a week, because he had friends on the northern side of the island who wanted off. I agreed and offered him an extra portkey, in case he came across anyone else on the island who was ready to leave and several charmed parchments in case they wanted to stay. He jumped at the chance to help out and asked for information regarding who was left to check with. I wrote down everything I knew about the remaining inhabitants along the route he was planning on taking, which delayed me further. But if he could get people off of the island or in communication with the Ministry for me, then that would save me a lot of work.

The second stop occurred when I discovered a dead body lying on the ground. It was hard to tell if it'd been a terrorist or a local because of the amount of decay the body and clothes had suffered, but either way I had to collect evidence and document the scene. There appeared to be dragon involvement, with the edges of the cloak singed, but the cause of death was likely a fall from a great height. Whoever this was, he'd either been on dragon back, riding a broomstick, or climbing the steep cliffs of the valley when he fell and died. Unfortunately for me that meant I had to take yet another day to investigate all the while looking for clues as to who this person was.

I found a cave to shelter in and continued my work the next morning, securing the body and sending my notes off to the Ministry. Then I set out once more, evading yet another rampaging dragon. It was dusk again when I finally entered Malfoy Valley. I was about to go into the outer entrance to Malfoy Cave when I saw the familiar shimmer of my old invisibility cloak. Grateful that it hadn't been stolen by the terrorists, I snatched the now filthy garment up and shoved it into my knapsack. It was wet and had likely been trapped under the snow all winter. I'd have to have it cleaned as soon as possible, perhaps by one of Draco's house elves.

Then I finally entered Malfoy Cave. The inner rock door was closed and I couldn't even see the groove of where it was. Thus I knocked on the blank wall and yelled for Draco and his elves. I'd expected to be greeted with open arms, since I was bringing food and an escape method, but instead it was the old hologram projection Draco greeted me with.

"Why did you come back Harry Potter? I told you we were fine and I thought I made it clear that we aren't going to leave," he said.

"No, you can't stay Draco! It's not safe for your boys to stay and you need to see a healer," I protested.

"No I don't; I'm fine; completely recovered. And the boys are safe in here."

"Well I'm not leaving without you, so can you let me in already?"

"No, I don't think so. You can stay there on the porch, but I'm going to activate the outer wards again, in case you draw attention to yourself."

I nodded and a stone slammed into place, sealing the outer entrance. "Why won't you let me back in? I thought we were past this! I know all about your sons and I won't hurt them."

"Because I don't want to encourage you. You should leave when your portkey activates."

"I'm not going without you." If it came to that, I'd take off to the west, tracking down the remaining civilians who I hadn't seen in six months to see if they were willing to take one of my portkeys. Then I'd join the next mer-rescue, which was already in the planning stages. But, I didn't want Draco to think he was getting rid of me that easily, so I didn't mention that.

"Well you are _not_ coming inside." And with that, Draco's hologram disappeared, leaving me alone.

I had twenty-four hours to think about what had just happened before Draco's image returned. I spent the time setting up my tent, writing the Ministry, and thinking about what was going on. The only thing I could come up with was that Draco was still hiding something. And I had one clue to just what that might be.

"When are you leaving Potter?" Draco asked.

"Never. When are you letting me in?"

"Not until I have use for you. At the moment, I have no idea when that might be. I hope you have enough food to last you this time."

"I do. I have food for you too."

"I'll send Lifton to retrieve it," he conceded.

"Great. I need to talk to you about something else, will you let me in to speak?"

"No, I can hear you from here."

"In that case, I have information regarding Leda Malfoy. You might want to sit down for this," I warned. I didn't think my news was that shocking, but I had no idea how sick he was. He said he was fine, but I didn't entirely believe him.

"I am sitting. Did you find her?" His face was blank as he asked it, expressing neither worry, excitement, nor concern.

"No and there is no record of her ever being with the southern merfolk. I spoke with a merman who calls himself Grandfather. He says that no one named Leda Malfoy has ever been involved with a merman. Furthermore, he says that it is impossible for a human to have a relationship with a merperson, because our species are incompatible. Finally, he says that no female Malfoy has been on this island in over a hundred years and that he's never heard of a Leda Malfoy."

"Well he wouldn't; Leda was seeing a merman in the western lake, not the southern one. That sort of relationship would be hushed up and kept from starch old merfolk who wouldn't approve."

"You told me it was the lake to the south."

"No I didn't; you misheard or misremembered."

"Then why did you send me to the southern lake to retrieve the memory crystal?"

"Because I knew precisely where that crystal was and how to retrieve it. I don't have that level of information on the other mertowns."

"Fine, but even if I was wrong about that, how do you explain that Grandfather didn't know of _any_ female Malfoy being on the island?"

"This old merman couldn't possibly know every human that was on the island and we all look the same to them."

"I'm not buying it Malfoy. Did you know that my coworkers are working on organizing an expedition to find the memory crystals from the other mertowns and their secret underwater strongholds? Soon I'll be able to ask the merpeople of the western lake. What will you say then?"

"That depends on what they have to say."

"They will say the same as Grandfather; that they have never heard of a Leda Malfoy."

"I don't believe that to be the case. I am sure Leda said it was a western merman she was in love with."

"And if not?"

"Well then she lied, but I don't believe she did. Ask every merman on the island if you must, but one of them must've heard of Leda."

"I don't think they will. I don't think there was a Leda."

"In that case, good day Potter," Draco said before the holographic projection clicked off.

He left me alone on the porch once more, but Lifton did come to visit me later that afternoon to retrieve the food I'd brought.

"Lifton, what is Draco hiding now?"

"Master Draco has ordered Lifton not to tell Harry Sodding Potter," Lifton said, wringing his hands.

"I know there was no Leda Malfoy. Who really is the mother of Broderick and Roadrick?"

Lifton grunted and banged his head against the hard stone floor. "Lifton cannot say, sir."

"What should I do then? Can you tell me that?"

"Lifton doesn't see why not, sir. Harry Sodding Potter must stay and take care of Master Draco."

"Is he sick again then?"

"No, not exactly," the elf said with a grunt, pulling at his ears.

"What then? Tell me Lifton."

"Does Harry Potter, sir, know what it means to be kissed by the dragon spirits?" Lifton asked in reply.

"No, not exactly," I admitted.

"Find out, sir," Lifton said. "Now Lifton must be ironing his ears for being a very bad elf."

And then Lifton was gone and I was left with the task of finding out what the phrase meant. I knew I'd heard it used before, possibly even in conjunction with the Malfoys, but I didn't know when or how. If only I had Hermione with me. Not having my best friend at my side, I did the next best thing and sent her my request with my patronus. She'd get back to me using the Protean charmed parchment I'd left with Ron. In the meantime, I retrieved my portable pensieve from my knapsack and set to work examining my memories for the phrase as well as the exact wording Draco had used when telling me about Leda Malfoy.

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Author's Note: And so the mystery continues… at least this time Harry has a solid lead to chase. Please Review!


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: I'd like to thank gyspywitch19, sghazalifard, Isabella, and billjenny6972 for reviewing the last chapter! Your feedback is the inspiration that keeps me writing :)

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I was rather put out by the fact that I'd spent the last two and a half months getting off of the island and then returning with a portkey with the intention of rescuing the Malfoy family, who no longer wished to be rescued. But if the Malfoys weren't ready to be rescued and wouldn't let me in, there wasn't much use in my waiting around for them when there were so many other beings on the island in need of my help. I used the outer cave of Malfoy Cave as my base of operations, but I didn't stay put waiting for Draco; instead I let him know I was going and that I'd be back soon.

My first trip was to the northwest. Ford and Caireall were planning the rescue of another mervilliage and it would go easier if they had the corresponding memory crystal. I was the only one in a position to obtain it, hence my mission. I knew this crystal wouldn't lead me to the nonexistent Leda Malfoy, but it would aid in our locating the missing merpeople. I knew, because I'd examined my memories in a pensieve and was able to determine that I'd been right and that Draco was lying. He'd clearly stated on three separate occasions that Leda had gone to the southern lake, not the western one. It was only when I'd returned with proof that she hadn't gone south that he changed his tune and I was certain he'd change his tune again once I return with proof that she hadn't gone west either. He was probably counting on one of the mertowns being so decimated that the survivors wouldn't notice that a human hadn't died.

I started out east, because it was the only way to exit Malfoy Valley, but then curved around to the north, stopping along the way to check on the various civilians who'd chosen to stay. I found an abandoned cave where I'd expected to find a young couple. When I asked the nearest neighbors, the MacBhàtairs about the couple, they informed me that a wizard had come by with a portkey and they had taken it to the refugee camp. I had indeed sent a wizard named Camshron north this way with two portkeys and I was pleased to learn that he had found a taker for the spare, because it meant two more civilians had fled to safety.

There were six MacBhàtairs, a middle aged couple, their three children between the ages of ten and seventeen, and Mr. MacBhàtair's widowed mother.

While I had a family with three willing adult informants in the MacBhàtairs, I decided to ask a few more questions. I asked first if they'd ever heard of a Leda Malfoy or any family on the island with connection to Draco Malfoy. The answer was no. Of the six members of the MacBhàtair family still on the island, none of them had ever heard of a Leda Malfoy or anyone on the island connected to Draco Malfoy and his two sons. There was no other Malfoy family. When I asked about human/merpeople romantic relations they laughed and said someone was pulling my chain.

"So where then, do the Malfoy boys come from?" I asked.

"From the kiss of the great dragon spirits," Old Lady MacBhàtair answered.

"Yes, but what does that mean exactly? Surely there must've been a mother."

"Certainly, but we do not know who," she answered and the others nodded in agreement.

I'd been in contact with Hermione, who promised to research the phrase, but had so far been able to determine nothing more than that a kiss from a dragon spirit was supposed to grant fertility. That was in agreement with what Draco had said about the first Malfoys to inhabit Malfoy Cave.

I didn't yet have any evidence supporting it, but I had a feeling that the dragon magic, or "dragon spirit," as the cave yahoos called it, was somehow responsible for the trance that had led to my having had sex with Draco. It was probably part of the kiss that a sexual partner is found for those without one. As the nearest human, it latched onto me. But who had it latched onto with the twins? It must've been a witch and since Draco wouldn't tell me which witch, it must've been someone he doesn't want known. Given that his heirs were involved, that probably meant a mudblood or a half-breed.

Next I asked, "Does the dragon spirit ever force conception?"

"I wouldn't say it forced Alfred and me, but it was with us during the conception of our children, yes," old lady MacBhàtair answered and Mr. and Mrs. MacBhàtair agreed.

"But if Draco Malfoy didn't have a sexual partner and the dragon spirits were to kiss him, might he then go out in search of the nearest human to procreate with?"

"Possibly, but none of use knows for certain," Old Lady MacBhàtair answered.

I asked for details regarding exactly what they knew of the Malfoy family and precisely how they'd learned of the children. Apparently Draco was considered a recluse, even among the reclusive cave yahoos, and the children had never been seen outside of their cave. They only knew of their existence because their names had appeared on a magical list of those who'd been kissed by the dragon. The list carved itself onto a stone peak above the sacred library in the middle of the island, where there was a high concentration of dragon magic and a large number of surrounding nests. Those who believed in the dragon spirit went four times a year to a gathering to read the list. No one had gone this year, because of the terrorists, but in the year the Malfoy twins were born, three names were added to the list.

"Can you show me how the names appear? Make me as close of a copy as to what you can remember?" I asked.

Mr. MacBhàtair, Old Lady MacBhàtair's son, agreed. He pulled out a scrap of parchment and wrote:

Draco Lucius Malfoy-

- Broderick Castor Malfoy

- Roadrick Pollux Malfoy

"That's unusual, innit Ma-ma?" Mr. MacBhàtair asked his mother.

"Yes, it is. When you were born both your father's and my names were added to the list before your name," Old Lady MacBhàtair answered.

"Yes, but you were married Ma-ma and there are other cases where only one parent is added. That young MacLuirg girl wasn't married when she was kissed. Her name and her daughter's name appeared, but not the father's name. The poor dear never did tell us who done it do her," Mrs. MacBhàtair said and the others agreed.

It seemed as though only the parents taking responsibility for the children resulting from the kiss of a dragon spirit were recorded on the sacred list. Whoever Draco had impregnated had never told, never been seen pregnant, and had slipped away without being missed. It was a complete mystery and the people of the island had assumed that the mother was someone Draco Malfoy had secretly been hiding in his cave.

None of the MacBhàtairs thought that my notion of the mother being of impure blood was likely, because there weren't any half-breeds or muggleborns living on the island at the time. They thought it much more likely that Draco had been having an affair with a married pureblood witch or had arranged for a surrogate to bear his children. Whatever the case, the family provided me no more answers, so I moved on, leaving them behind with a protean charmed parchment.

I turned west, following the pass around the mountains on my way to the westernmost lake. I came across another dead body, lying crumpled in the mud. I was beginning to grow very tired of finding dead bodies, especially because this was one I recognized. He was a middle-aged wizard who lived in the area, but obviously hadn't stuck to his own cave. He was found near one of the terrorist supply caves and judging by the deep cuts covering his body, he was slashed to death by the terrorists. Perhaps he'd been caught and killed during a raid.

Being an Auror, I had no choice but to stop to gather evidence and document the scene. This one was obviously a murder, making the job even more important. When the terrorists are finally brought to their knees, the murder of this man will be among the list of crimes they are made to pay for. Thus I spent two days sifting through the leaves and soil for trace evidence, before packing up the body and taking him with me to the lake. I found a deserted cave in the vicinity of the lake and that was where I left him, for Ford and Caireall to retrieve when they come for the merfolk.

It was summer, so the cold and snow were no longer a problem. The mud from the summer rains and the sudden storms, though, didn't make my task pleasant. This time I found the right tree immediately and went straight to trying to speak the password to open the secret hiding place at the base of the tree. Again I found myself hindered by my ineptitude with the Mermish language. Unlike the last time, I'd never heard the words spoken out loud, having read them from my Protean charmed parchment, which meant I had absolutely no idea how to say them.

After many failed attempts, I broke down and sent my patronus out to Ford, asking him for help. It took hours, because the patroni had to travel great distances there and back, but eventually his patronus returned and spoke the password to me. I then repeated it to the tree, my good intentions foremost in my mind, and the lid popped up instantly. I retrieved the memory crystal and slung it around my neck for safe keeping, just as I'd done with the last one.

Now that I had the crystal, the challenge was getting it off of the island and back to Ford and for that I'd need help. I had used my charmed parchment to locate someone on the island who would be willing to transport the crystal for me via portkey. The Auror who was in charge of all of the charmed parchments having to do with the reserve contacted the various remaining civilians. The civilians with parchments now covered a large segment of the island and were able to contact the other residents of the island via the local sea birds. Thus it was determined not only who was finally ready to leave, but whose need was most urgent.

There was a very ill wizard named Loganach in a cave to the north of the western lake. He'd asked for a portkey off of the island, so that he could receive medical care, because he'd been sick for months and wasn't getting better. I thought at first that his symptoms were similar to Draco's and that maybe there was a common cause of illness on the island, but that hypothesis didn't hold water. When I reached Loganach, he had none of Draco's symptoms and was instead suffering from a severe chest infection.

I stayed with Loganach, tending to the gravely ill man while we waited for my next portkey to activate. He was no longer eating on his own, his throat too raw to be worth the pain, but at least he was still drinking, so there was hope. I cleaned him up, fed him soup, and made certain he was well hydrated, before I handed over the memory crystal and sent him away by portkey.

I took a different way back to Malfoy Cave, flying through a slightly more northern pass, heading east to the one entrance to the valley. Malfoy Cave was slightly to the south of the middle of the island, so that put this pass about dead middle. Along the way I stopped at a few more caves, giving out another portkey and more parchments, in between dodging ferocious dragons. This region was more heavily guarded by the terrorists and the locals seemed to think that the main terrorist headquarters was right around here, although they didn't know exactly where.

With so many dragons on the loose, my return trip took even longer than the trip there, because I could only travel when the dragons were sleeping. These particular dragons were morning and evening creatures, napping during the heat of midday and the chill of midnight. That meant I had to be on the opposite schedule, sleeping mornings and evenings and flying during midday and midnight, if it wasn't too cloudy at night that was, since I was navigating by moonlight.

By the time I returned to Malfoy Cave, I wanted nothing more than to lie back in a comfortable bed and relax. I knew Draco wouldn't let me in, but it was still a disappointment when I found myself once again camped out in my tent on the outer porch of Malfoy Cave.

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Author's Note: In the event of a war, I'd think I'd leave the island. But whatever the crisis is, some people always choose to stay behind to protect their property. I think the fact that the precious dragons are at stake is a major factor keeping the dragon spiritualist in place guarding them.

I promised adventure; is this story living up to your expectations? Is it too little or too much action? I figure that whenever Draco refuses to see Harry, Harry will keep going off to rescue people; it's in Harry's nature, after all. Please Review!


	11. Chapter 11

I spent most of the next two weeks on Draco's porch, waiting for Ford and Caireall to begin the rescue of the western merfolk. While I waited, I tried to solve the mystery regarding what Draco was hiding and where the Malfoy twins had come from.

Hermione wasn't much help, because she couldn't find any of the most informative books on dragon spiritualism. She found references to them, pointing her to the grand Mystic Dragon Library buried under the mountains of the dragon reserve, but it seemed there were no copies outside of the reserve. Still she was bound and determined, planning on contacting the myriad of refugees who'd left the island via one of my portkeys. Surely one of them must have more information or better yet, brought one of their sacred books with them.

I wanted Hermione to try, hoping that she was right, but I didn't truly believe she'd be successful. One of the reasons the cave yahoos were so opposed to leaving the reserve was that their religious beliefs ordained that their religious books were not to leave the island. There was a fear that the books would be wiped clean of all writing without the presence of the dragon magic to protect them. Therefore I highly doubted that any of the refugees had brought a copy of any of their sacred books with them.

Draco was gracious enough to contact me through his holographic projection once a day and I used the opportunity to slip in a few questions. If I asked too many or asked too directly, he got mad and cut off the communication, but if I asked just right, he'd answer. I wasn't sure what value the information I'd gleaned from him was, other than to rule out an affair with a married witch. He'd been so offended when I asked, that he cut off communication with me for three days. But when I asked if he was gay, he nodded in confirmation. Thus I was reasonably certain the mother of the twins had been a surrogate, not a lover. And I was slowly narrowing down the list, by asking how his friends and various known pureblood acquaintances were. So far none of the names I'd brought up had struck a chord, but eventually, if I kept at it, I was certain I'd come across the right name and he'd respond by cutting off communication.

In addition to wheedling information out of Draco, I went on another expedition, this one to the other side of the highest mountain that bordered Malfoy valley, where the Mystic Dragon Library was located, to retrieve one of the sacred holy books. The cave was warded, so I first had to stop at the one inhabited cave nearby and ask the old dragon shawoman to let me in. She agreed and I almost convinced her to leave and save herself. But in the end, she couldn't leave the dragon spirits, even to save her life, because someone had to guard the books. She was running low on food, so I left her some and promised to return the book she lent me in pristine condition.

I took the book back to my tent to read carefully, trying not to damage it in any way as I decoded the confusing scripter. It was comprised mostly of recordings of the stories of those who had been kissed by the dragon. There were many stories of infertile couples who'd come to the island to conceive and been miraculously cured of their infertility. There were also many stories of cave yahoos communing with the dragon spirits while conceiving their children.

The book seemed endless and wasn't really providing any new information. I was beginning to think of the dragon spirit as a pervert watching the sex acts, leaving behind babies in its wake. But I couldn't find anything on what happened when a single wizard was kissed by the dragon or mention of the dragon spirit possessing people and forcing them to commit the sex acts. Thus I was beginning to lose hope that this book held the answers. If only Hermione was here, she'd bunker down in that sacred library and not come out until she knew all of the dragon spirit's secrets.

Thus I was relieved when settled with another task to complete to occupy my time. I received word that there was a witch named Nora Breckenridge living in a cave to the east of my location who had indicated her desire to leave. I still had one functional portkey with me that had yet to activate, so I made a detour to deliver it. She was very grateful, since she was out of food, and promised not to miss the short active window for the portkey. It was good news, because it meant yet another civilian would be safe, but she didn't have any useful information for me regarding the dragon spirits when I asked.

Breckenridge said the phrase "dragon kissed," was synonymous with pregnant and if applied to a wizard, it meant he'd gotten someone pregnant. If that was true, I didn't see how it was responsible for Draco's strange behavior now. I already knew about his children and obviously he had once gotten a witch pregnant. Why would he be trying to hide something I already knew? Elf clues really do make no sense at all.

And so I went back to my usual spot on the porch of Malfoy Cave. It wasn't long after that when Ford and Caireall finally set off to rescue the western merfolk. They flew in around the island, hugging the coast, but just out of smelling range of most the dragons, to minimize their chances of being pursued. They didn't completely evade the dragons, but the dragon who picked up their scent was riderless and wanted nothing more than to sniff them. It made for a bit of excitement to write home about, but was less dangerous than our first rescue mission.

I met my partners at the lake, having avoided my own dragon tail and dodged a pair of terrorists on brooms. Before we started, they removed fresh portkeys, more protean charmed parchments, and supplies of food from their knapsacks and passed them over to me. I passed back debris that had once been functional portkeys. Then there was the detour to the cave where I'd left the body of the murder victim I'd found on my previous trip this way. Ford pulled a body bag out of his knapsack and the three of us maneuvered the body into it. Ford stored the body bag and all of the evidence I'd collected into his knapsack and then we were finally ready to get started on the rescue mission.

Ford was starting to get a sense for these Scottish lakes and was able to find the right path quicker this time. It was more of the same, dead bodies blocking the passage and a huge underwater cavern full of trapped merfolk. These merpeople had been trapped so long without food that they'd been using a channel that connects directly to the sea to bring in fish, so that they didn't starve; they were freshwater creatures and only able to stand the salt water for short periods, which made going as far as the next island over most impractical. The months seemed to be flying by with very little progress and the one year mark from the start of the altercation was quickly approaching. A year was a long time for this many people to be without proper stores of food.

I knew these beings would have no knowledge of the imaginary Lena Malfoy, but I asked anyway. Not only had they never heard of another Malfoy on the island or another family associated with the Malfoy family on the island, but they were downright offended when I asked about a merpeople/human romantic relationship. Still, they were grateful we were rescuing them and to show their appreciation they didn't skewer me on one of their tridents for asking about such an offensive topic.

We had several hours to rest and recuperate before handing out the portkeys to the merpeople. Fork and Caireall went back with the survivors, while I returned to Malfoy Cave with my fresh supplies. Draco of course didn't let me in, but he did send Lifton to retrieve the food.

"Lifton, as far as I can tell, being kissed by the dragon just means someone conceived a baby or was conceived with dragon magic. What does that have to do with what Draco's hiding?" I asked the elf.

"Bonnie told Lifton to tell Harry Sodding Potter that he is the _stupidiest_ human the dragons have ever kissed and that he wouldn't know a dragon if it ate him alive," Lifton replied.

"Ah, okay….I don't know what to say to that."

"Sotty says that Harry Sodding Potter ought to have been swallowed whole by a dragon, rather than kissed by one," Lifton said.

"And, um, what does, er, Draco have to say about this?" I asked, wondering what was going on.

"Master Draco has forbidden us from talking to Harry Sodding Potter about it. Lifton will have to iron his hands for telling. Fat lot of good it will do."

"But you haven't told me anything!"

"Lifton _has_ told Harry Sodding Potter _everything!_"

"All you've told me is that he's been kissed by a dragon, but I already knew he was kissed by a dragon! That's where the twins came from, isn't it?"

"Master Draco has been kissed _again_," Lifton said, putting grave emphasis on the last word.

"Again? Meaning he's gotten another witch up the duff?"

"Lifton cannot say." As Lifton spoke, he pulled at his ears so harshly I worried he was going to rip them off. "Master Draco ordered Lifton not to say." Then he proceeded to bang his head against the stone floor and mutter about what a bad elf he was.

"Stop that Lifton!" I grabbed him up by the arms, dangling him above the ground so that he couldn't keep bashing himself. "Now, just hold on a minute and help me figure something out. What should I do? How do I get back into the house and how do I find out what's going on?"

"Lifton does not know, but Lifton does know that Harry Sodding Potter _must_."

"Why? What's going on? Why is it so crucial?"

I could tell by the grunting and groaning that followed that Lifton really wanted to tell me, but couldn't. In the end I let him go with orders not to hurt himself, which I knew wouldn't be followed, because I wasn't his master and he'd broken his master's rules.

I was left there alone to contemplate what exactly was going on. Who, exactly, was pregnant? Was it the same woman who had carried the twins? If so, how did she get down there? Was she there all along and I'd simply missed her in the never ending tunnels? Or had she left, having hid out in some other cave on the island and returned while I was away? Or was it someone else entirely, such as a female terrorist? Or perhaps it was a mermaid and he was the one with the secret taboo relationship… That last idea I dismissed almost as soon as it occurred to me, because it made no sense at all. Draco had admitted to being gay and the children were clearly human.

I wrote to Hermione with my new information, hoping that she'd notice something that I'd overlooked. But it's a lot harder to pick up on little things when hearing about them second hand, so she was just as confused as I was. She did confirm that she'd contacted all of the refugees and none of them had come forward with a book on dragon mysticism that she could borrow, but a few had been willing to sit down with her and tell her about their religion.

From the interviews and what I'd told Hermione, she concluded that the entire religion was nothing more than the millennia long accumulation of dragon magic manifesting itself in hyper fertility and wonderful sex. Well that was nothing new, because I knew firsthand how great the sex was, but I didn't see how it helped me. What I needed was a way into Malfoy Cave. When I relayed this to Hermione, she asked me why it was so urgent. If Draco wasn't asking for my help and had been through the birthing process before, surely he was more than capable of handling things this time around as well. I wasn't sure why I felt so strongly about it, other than Lifton had sounded so insistent, but I felt the dragon magic pulling me towards the cave. The fact that I couldn't get inside the cave was driving me crazy, like an itch I just couldn't ever scratch.

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Author's Note: So what did you think of Lifton's message. If you pay close attention, he has told Harry enough to figure out what is going on this time…

I would like to thank sghazalifard and billjenny6972 for reviewing the last chapter! Your feedback inspires me to write more :D

Please Review!


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